Never Been Cursed
by casadea
Summary: casey has to go live with her uncle in england, enrolls at hogwarts, and falls for lupin. {very trite, i know, but be nice--this is my first try} These first chapters just set that all up.
1. Default Chapter Title

Hey—please be nice, this is my first fanfic…. *hides behind her keyboard* Remus is mine! Everything else belongs to JK Rowling

Chapter One: Of Mysterious Uncles in England

When the letter arrived, I was already so deep into my pain, I couldn't even think of reading it. It was tossed into the stack with all the others; letters of condolence, regrets, and offers for financial and emotional aide. 

"Casey? Are you awake?" Mrs. Kalstrom, the neighbor who had been watching me for the last few days, rapped softly on my open door. I turned my face to the wall, hugging my pillow tightly, tears already brimming. 

She hesitantly stepped towards my bed. "Casey, I have some good news for you." 

I said nothing, not wanting to believe there could possibly be any good news derived from the situation. 

"I've just got this from your uncle, over in England," she sat down on the edge of my bed. "He says… Well, he says he's deeply sorry for-" 

I buried my head deeper into the pillow. She changed her words immediately. "He's sent for you, Casey." 

"What?" I managed softly, my voice trembling. 

"He's asked that you be flown to London as soon as possible. He's already enrolled you at a school, where his son attends. You should have received the letter confirming your enrollment-" she paused, reaching for the stack of haphazardly thrown mail to the side. "Yes, here it is." 

"I'm not going to London," I argued, back to Mrs. Kalstrom.

"But Casey, you've no choice. He's the only living-" her voice caught and quickly reworded, "the only relative who can take care of you." 

"I'm old enough to take care of myself," I whispered. 

"Your plane leaves on Friday." Her hand touched my shoulders softly. "Please, Casey, he's all you've got left." 

I curled myself into a tight ball and let myself weep at the truth behind her words. 

The next day, I finally allowed myself to open the letter containing the confirmation for my new life.

_Dearest Miss Casey Franklin; _

_Our deepest sympathies at your tragedy, Miss Franklin, and our heartfelt wishes for your recovery from the pain. But it is with a lighter heart that we welcome you to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as our newest student.._

_Your Aunt and Uncle already hold a list of supplies needed for the beginning of the new year, which can be obtained upon your arrival here in London. We shall meet with you soon. _

_Warmest Regards;_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_ _

I stared at the letter, unable to comprehend what I had just read. I had been enrolled into a school of wizardry!? What kind of sick joke was that? And speaking of jokes, who the heck were these people claiming to be my "Aunt and Uncle", whom I have never heard a single word spoken of? Perhaps maybe once, when I was littler, and my mother-

But that hurt to think about. So I stopped. 

"UP already? Good, good," Mrs. Kalstrom bustled through the door, suitcases and boxes in hands. "We need to get you packed and ready as soon as possible!" 

I held the acceptance letter from Hogwart's and sighed. "Mrs. Kalstrom, have you ever heard of this school… This, Hogwart's School of Wizardry?" 

She avoided my eyes. "Perhaps… Your mother might have mentioned it once or twice before…." 

"What's my uncle's name?" 

"It's Lucius." She answered, relieved to have the topic changed. "Lucius Malfoy." 

I nodded silently, tucking the letter into my jeans pocket. "What should I take?" I asked. 

"Everything." 

We began packing. 

Friday arrived sooner than I had hoped. I spent that morning in the cemetery.

"I have to go soon," I whispered to the two marked headstones, setting daisies on top of them. "They're sending me to London. With my Uncle Lucius." I kneeled down. "Why haven't you ever told me I had an uncle? And why am I going to a school of wizardry, Mom?" Tears brimmed. "There's so much you haven't told me; so much I need to know. And now I'm going all the way across the globe and I won't even be able to tell you about it." I stared at the carved names in the marble, the letter blurring through my tears. "I miss you. God, I miss you so much" 

"Casey-" Mrs. Kalstrom called my name softly, from the waiting car. I nodded towards her to let her know I understood, then turned back to my parents' headstones. 

"Goodbye." I whispered, kissing my finger and tracing their names before standing up. "I'll come visit you as soon as I can." 

And then, with one long look behind, I was swept away to a new country, a new world, and a new life. 

"Now, your uncle will be holding a red sweater," Mrs. Kalstrom was telling me hurriedly, smoothing down my hair. She paused, giving me a soft and gentle smile. "You take care of yourself, Casey." I flushed as she kissed my head and pushed me towards the waiting airplane. "Don't forget to write to me." 

"Thank you, Mrs. Kalstrom…" I turned, walking backwards, shifting my backpack. "For everything." 

"God Bless, Casey Franklin." She waved, her face pinched in the all-too familiar look of tears. "Call me as soon as you reach London—so I know you're all right." 

I nodded my agreement, then turned to board the VirginAtlantic. 

"Welcome aboard!" the perky stewardess greeted me, handing over a pair of headphones as I forced a smile in reply. "Enjoy your flight!" 

As I took my seat (a window one, as I had requested) I leaned my head against the Plexiglas and closed my eyes. _Please,_ I begged silently, to whomever was in charge of orphaned girls with mysterious uncles in England. _Please let this all be ok._

_ _

The flight seemed an eternity. The movies they showed were mediocre at best, while the turbulence from Atlantic Storms was enough to make me queasy for the remainder. As we landed, I couldn't help but feel completely insignificant and helpless against the bright lights of London. Slinging my book bag over my shoulder, I nervously began rechecking my appearance in the window. Hair straight, clothes unwrinkled, shoes tied. Anxiety wracked at my body like an undulating ocean as I slowly inched my way towards the front of the plane. The cool air early morning air hit me with great force as I began the walk into the terminal. And then, taking a deep breath, I walked into the airport, blinking from the startling contrast of airline lights and bright artificial lighting. 

Hundreds of noises and conversations suddenly hit at me as I searched the crowds frantically, looking for someone with a red sweater. And then, when all was lost, I saw them. 

At first I thought I was seeing things. A tall, lanky, mean looking man and his even skinnier wife, flanked by a sturdy boy about my age, with a glare so fierce it almost made me guilty to be alive. Such a sudden, drastic change from the gentle, sweet smiles of my loving parents, I felt a fresh burst of tears threatening to overtake me. But I pushed them aside for the sake of the moment and softly tread to them. All three wore looks of complete boredom and peevishness, I was afraid to say anything. 

"Ah—" 

Uncle Malfoy's eyes riveted to mine in a "What-On-Earth-Do-You-Have-To-Do-With-Me" look. I faltered. 

"Uncle Malfoy?" I finally asked, forcing a smile. 

"Casey?" he sniffed, taking in my appearance. I unconsciously moved a hand to tuck hair behind my ears. 

"Yes, sir." 

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother," he said stiffly. "She was such a wonderful woman. I knew that good-for-nothing husband of hers would be her undoing."

I stared at him, unsure how to answer. It made me slightly angry that he would address my father like that. 

"This is your Aunt Narcissa and your cousin, Draco." 

"Hello," I started to smile, but it fell on their stony stares. 

"We have been here for two hours," Draco muttered. "I'm way beyond joyous greetings." 

I lowered my head miserably, fighting to keep up withtheir quick footsteps as they led me down towards the baggage retrieval. After hauling my three suitcases off the moving belt, I again had to fight, now laden with two of the three bags, to keep up. Draco, who had been volunteered to carry the third of my suitcases, was behind with me, mumbling and grumbling over his burden. I already felt like a giant wedge had been driven into my heart, and my overwhelming wave of home sickness nearly bowled me over. The ride to my new home was silent and as cold as the greeting I had received in the airport. I was left to sit in the back of the car, hands wringing together tightly in an anxious habit. 

"Draco, show Casey her room," Uncle Lucius ordered gruffly, pulling into the driveway of a sprawling brick mansion. 

He grumbled profusely, but obediently carried two of my heavy suitcases into the house, down a twisted maze of halls, and into an enormous room, the size of my kitchen back in the States. I set my bag down on the bed in awe, already turning to take in the huge windows looming on three walls, and the brightly colored furniture that adorned the plush carpet. 

"Don't expect me to defend you at Hogwart's," Draco said suddenly, breaking me from my daze. 

"Huh?" I blinked, looking over at his bored expression. 

"I said," he snarled, "I'm not gonna drag you around with me everywhere at Hogwart's. I have my own friends. And they don't include you. So don't expect me to hold your hand and show youaround." 

I stared at him, thinking of a thousand good replies to his snide comments. But I opted for the polite and reserved, "Fine." And turned my back to him to begin unpacking my things. 

"Dad says your father was a wasted life. That your mother was so much better than his level of poverty and destitution." 

I stiffened, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a wounded look. 

"Dad's always telling us what a pity it was she threw away her entire promising career for someone so… ordinary." 

"My father was one of the greatest men to ever walk this earth," I said, keeping my voice steady and controlled. "And you can say whatever you will to dispute that, but I will forever hold his memory dearer than anything you might have to say."

"Whatever." He stalked out the door. "As far as I can see, we should've left you to die with them. Why bother bringing you all the way over here, to start six years late, and expect you to become something you're so obviously not?" 

I was left to stare at the vacant doorway, pondering on his words as his footsteps echoed down stairs. Ever since that letter had arrive to announce my acceptance to Hogwart's School of Wizardry, my mind had been a jumbled confusion of distant memories. I knew the name was familiar, but how? 

I was soon to find out. 

Chapter Two: of Shopping and Big Long Sticks

The next two months went by in a blur. About a week before I was to leave for school (which, it turned out, was somewhat of a year-round boarding school)I was taken to a mysterious and rather suspicious looking place called Diagon Alley. 

"This is where most wizards buy their supplies and magic apparatus," Aunt Narcissa explained to me in a semi-civil voice as I was steered from one murky magic shop to another. 

"Most wizards?" I repeated, feeling slightly edgy from the past few weeks and their insistence of my status as a witch. 

But she didn't even bother with an answer. I hadn't even really expected one. 

As she pulled ahead to walk with Uncle Lucius and Draco, I began looking around at the passing people, most in robes, most nodding or giving me small smiles as they passed. Their friendliness, as compared to the Malfoy's cold and obvious disgust with me, amazed and lifted my spirits. If passersby on the street showed this much curtsey, the students at my new school couldn't possibly be too horrible. The thought that I would be lonely and an outsider for the entire year wore on my mind more heavily than any other. 

As I was led into a store called Flourish and Blotts, I was suddenly knocked into by an overeager kid, a little older than me, with the same red hair, only slightly brighter. 

"FRED! You apologize this instant!" a commanding voice shot through the store as I blinked in dazed confusion, trying to remember why I was on my back on the floor. 

The red head turned crimson, a color I knew all too well, and mumbled something inaudible under his breath, undoubtedly aimed towards the plump woman angrily making her way towards us. He offered me a grin and a hand up. 

"Quite sorry, really, I'm in a bit of a rush, y'see…" He threw a glance towards his approaching mother and started dusting off my jeans for me, trying to look humbled and apologetic. 

"Hey, look, you don't have to do that-" I began, trying to get him to stop, but he shook his head slightly, his bright blue eyes tipped up at me in a pleading look. I caught on quickly. 

"FRED! How ARE you! I was beginning to think I wouldn't see you EVER again!" I forced a happy grin onto my face, noting with some worry that the Malfoys did not look pleased with my company. 

"Hey, ---" he shot me a look of anxiety. I mouthed "Casey" to him. "Yea, hey…Circe…" he said slowly, eyes darting towards his mother, who had stopped in her path, but regarded us suspiciously. "How's it going?" 

I tried not to laugh. "Pretty good, thanks… How're you doing?" 

"Ok…" 

"Good." I blinked at him, waiting for another cue. He seemed to be out of them. "Well, I guess I'll see you at school then, huh?" 

"Yea, guess so." He nodded. "Glad I got a chance to run into you." 

I couldn't help it. My smile wavered and I broke out into a fit of laughter. He looked terrified for a second, but after hearing no accusations from his mother, he managed to laugh with me. 

"If you're through with your conversation, _Circe_," Uncle Malfoy said, his teeth gritted, "I suggest we get on with what we came here to do." 

My smile faded. I mumbled a goodbye to Fred, who was watching my Uncle with interest, as I was being shoved towards a nervous sales clerk. He was wringing his hands, his big eyes blinking under his thick horn rimmed glasses. He seemed to be afraid of my uncle, something I could easily relate to. He was a temperamental and intimidating man. 

"Wh-what can I help you with today, Mr. Malfoy?" he wheezed. As Uncle Lucius showed Draco and my lists to the shopkeeper, I let my eyes wander around the store aimlessly. It was truly a remarkable place; unlike anywhere I'd ever been. I suppose that dealt greatly with the fact that this was the first store I had ever been to that sold, as Aunt Narcissa said, Wizard Apparatus. Which still seemed a great joke to me. I had been told, many times since I arrived, that my mother had been a witch and had passed her magical traits to me when I was born. Ludicrous, absurd, yet somehow believable. Especially now, as I was handed a dozen heavy books with titles such as _Spells for the Seventh Year Student_, and _A Curse Before Dying_. It all seemed too great a length for anyone to go just to mess with me. 

As I struggled to balance my books, and the rolls of paper (they called it parchment) being loaded into my arms, I noticed a trio of people, my age, watching Draco with their eyes narrowed and arms crossed over their chests. Obviously not a fan club. One of them, who looked suspiciously like the redheaded boy I had run into earlier, was muttering something to the other two. The girl, a tall, very pretty girl with long brown hair, kept shaking her head. The other, a gangly looking guy with glasses, messy black hair, and vivid green eyes, was nodding. Curiosity getting the better of me, I pretended to be interested in the rack of books under the title "Muggle Novels—On Sale!" behind them, straining to hear what they were saying. 

"—and you know it wouldn't hurt him, Hermione, it really wouldn't!" the red head insisted. 

"You don't just go around turning people into newts in broad daylight!" she said back, angrily. "I don't care how loathsome and disgusting they are." 

"But it'd be pretty funny, seein' him squirm around on the floor." The second boy grinned. "We should turn him into a ferret--like Moody did that one time." 

"For one thing, it wasn't Moody who had done it," Hermione started, "and for another, we'd be expelled for misuse of magic! We're not supposed to use it until we're back in school!" 

"Ah, come off it, Hermione," the red head moaned. "Stop being so goody good." 

"You're one to talk, Ron!" she glared at him ferociously. "It wasn't me who took a summer course over at Beauxbatons' in order to 'get ahead for next year'!" 

"He only went because Fleur asked him to," the black haired boy reminded her. "And if you had known it could be down, you'd be enrolled for the entire summer!" 

She huffed indignantly. "I would not! I have other things to do then study all summer!" 

The two boys exchanged looks that clearly stated they didn't believe her at all. 

"I have!" she repeated furiously. 

My eavesdropping was suddenly cut short by Aunt Narcissa's voice. "Casey! We're ready to check out here!" 

In a movement that lacked both skill and coordination, I turned to face her while balancing my books, my shoulder hitting the edge of the Muggle Book rack. It all happened very slowly. The three teens all turned to see who the loathsome target of their newt-vex's mother was talking to, my face turned as bright a crimson as Fred's had earlier, the rack began to wobble suspiciously, and my books began to overpower my balance. For a fleeting moment, I had hope it would all stay in place, but then the rack toppled, sending me reeling backwards under the added weight of several novels by Stephen King and Edgar Allen Poe. With a sound much like a choking cat, I landed, once again on my back, covered in books. As people came rushing forward to take a look, I closed my eyes and prayed for it all to go away. 

"Whoa! Didja see that!?" "Is she alright!?" "Who is it!?" were all shouted at once, voices mixing around my burning face like a torrent of rain. 

"You clumsy git!" Draco's voice was louder than the rest as I felt his face hover over me. I hesitantly opened an eye, then quickly shut it again to block the furious glares of my relatives. 

"It was an accident," I mumbled, feeling the familiar stir of heartache stirring in my throat. 

"Clear out, the lot of you," A loud, commanding voice broke through the crowd. I opened my eyes and looked up at a man, in his late sixties, it seemed, shaking his head in disgust as he surveyed the mess I had single-handedly created. From the way everyone heeded his orders, I guessed him to be the owner of the shop. He muttered several things under his breath, none of them pleasant, and pulled out a big long stick. I blinked at it, wondering if he would soon be poking at me for having ruined his Muggle Book display. Instead, he let out a loud booming command, holding the stick high over his head. Everyone around him stood back and nodded, as if agreeing to the words he was saying. Then, to my astonishment, the stick glowed a bright blue for a moment before the books suddenly began lifting themselves off of me, back into displays or into a neat stack by my head.Apparently this was nothing out of the ordinary for them, by the looks on their faces, and I felt myself blush once more at the stupefied and frightened look I knew to be on my face. 

"Next time be more careful," he growled at me, tucking away his stick and hefting up my books. Draco narrowed his eyes at me with a look of evil hatred. I suppose my falling was to blame for the way the people in the store began whispering and pointing as he shook his head at me, then turned to stalk back to his parents, both looking extremely agitated. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered again, but they didn't hear me. I felt the overpowering urge to cry grow stronger, and blinked back the tears forcefully. 

"You alright?" the dark haired boy had squatted down next to me. 

Unable to speak through the tight clench on my throat, I nodded. 

He grabbed my hand, and for the second time that day, I was given a help up. "I've never seen you around before." 

Hermione and Ron looked at me suspiciously, but Ron's eyes dawned with recognition and he soon broke out into a grin. "Hey! It's Circe!" 

I shook my head miserably. "Casey," I whispered, and hurried past them to grab my books (now in a sturdy book bag the Malfoy'shad bought me) before they could see me cry. 

I kept my eyes trained to the floor as I wordlessly allowed the Malfoy's to exploit my clumsiness and berate me for making them look like fools. "And don't you dare associate with those Weasleys again!" Uncle Lucius warned, shaking a finger at me. "No good, the whole lot of them! Dirty, filthy, poverty-stricken family… All with that blazin' red hair…" he shook his head. "None of that ruddy hair from _our_ family! Shame you inherited that awful color from that damn Muggle father of yours." 

I winced, ashamed of my hair for the first time in my life. I had always been told it was a lovely color, not fire engine bright, and not dark auburn. My mother had been so happy when she saw the red peach fuzz on my head as a baby. I remember her telling me how many women would be jealous of my hair when I grew up, but in the light of Uncle Lucius' tirade, I suddenly became very doubtful of it. 

We walked into a store laden with bottle upon bottle of various eye-boggling ingredients, but the ranting didn't stop there. "And that nasty Mudblood! Still as worthless as her parents, that one. Always runnin' round, mouthin' off… Thinking she's so much better than us purebloods. It's a disgrace to the wizarding world to have people like that in our community-" He suddenly broke off, his face turning purple. He shot a glance at me, then cleared his throat. "Erm, and…" 

I had been biting my lip through his whole curse-strewn raving. I could feel blood from where I had bit too hard. But as he eased up for a moment, I allowed myself to relax, thinking it was finished. 

"AND don't even get me STARTED on that big-headed show-off, that Potter fellow!" Finding a new source for his anger, I held in a sigh and numbly let him finish. "Gallavantin' around like he's some kind of God, that Potter is! Should've been killed with those pathetic parents o' his. 'Stead of going around like some sort of damned hero. Exploiting his mediocre talents and his fame as much as possible to gain attention. It's a mockery to us respectable wizarding families! Brought to fame by a fluke! Raised by Muggles! Babied along by that worthless headmaster you've got over there, it's sickening. Let the boy fend for himself in the real world, I say. Then see how great and worthy the All Mighty Harry Potter is!" 

By this time, the Apothecary had measured out everything needed for school, nodding his head and adding his own "here, here!"s to Uncle Malfoy's tirade. Draco was grinning a nasty little grin, most definitely in agreement with his horrid father. And Aunt Narcissa, despite her attempts to quiet him 'lest there be listeners', was nodding her agreement. I took the bottles handed to me and stuffed them in with my books, but kept quiet, so not to be asked to add my own opinion of the trio from the bookstore. 

Upon exiting the Apothecary, Uncle Lucius looked down at the two school lists he held in his hand. "Next we'll be needing to buy Casey some robes, a wand, all that first year stuff-" he looked disgusted at the word 'first-year'. "Then we can go grab something for lunch, right?" 

"But daa-aad!" whined Malfoy, pointing down the Alley towards a gathered crowd. "I want to look through the Quidditch Store." 

I could see the gears working as Uncle Lucius pondered on this one. And then, with a hearty and proud grin at his boy's obvious show of interest in whatever the heck Quidditch was, he nodded promptly. "Good idea. We should get you some new robes for the term." But then he remembered me. 

"I'll be fine on my own," I said quickly, not wanting to give him the chance to even think about an alternative. 

"Your Aunt will go with you," He decided, but a scathing look from Aunt Narcissa quickly squelched that idea. He frowned. "You don't know your way around in here. It's a dangerous place for first-timers." 

"I'll stay right around in here," I promised, my heart speeding with the new-found freedom lurking on the horizon. "Honestly." 

"Right." He still looked skeptical, as if expecting me to run off and seek out the people he had just blasted. But then he dug into his cloak (that was another odd thing—everyone around here wore cloaks a lot) and handed me a small leather bag. "Meet us back here in an hour." 

"I will." I promised, nearly giddy. 

"And just to let you know—that's all the money you get for the year, that is." He nodded at the bag clutched in my hands. "From your parent's trust, not mine. So I won't tell you how to spend it. But once it's spent, it's gone." With that, he handed over the list, turned to give Draco a big smile, and left me. I watched them go, feeling dizzy with freedom. And once they had vanished inside the store, I grinned and began that most sacred ritual—shopping. 

My list was comprised of many extraordinary things—robes for school, a cauldron for potion classes, dress clothes for dances, a broom to fly with, and a wand. As I was handed one long stick after another, I finally understood how the shopkeeper of Flourish & Blotts had cleared my mess so easily. No longer was I under the impression he had been in command of a big long stick. It was, in fact, a magic wand, much like the one I finally was given the go-ahead to take. 

"She'll be a good one, you can bet on that," the man grinned, rubbing his hands together as he rang me up. "You'll find many uses for her." 

I thanked him, leaving the shop with my back towards the door—slightly frightened by the fact that the old man had a lazy eye that rolled haphazardly around his socket and his insistence that my big stick was a female. 

I had obtained all I needed from the list, and had another twenty minutes to spare. Looking around the Alley, I weighed my options. On the right, a store of odds and ends, a type of Second Hand Magic shop. I loved old stores like that. But on the left, tucked between two enormous buildings so it's entrance was nearly hidden, a shop that promised "artistic wonders unlike any in the world". Urged by the artist within, I chose left and entered the murky doorway of _Painted Runes_. 

What I walked into truly was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Beautiful paintings adorned the walls, but the subjects inside seemed to be moving, shifting, and talking to each other. Even as I watched, a knight in silver armor was galloping towards a young woman singing a song to a pond of fish. He had over aimed, however, and fell into the pond, a giant splash signaling his error. The young woman began rolling on the grass, laughing, as he sputtered to the surface. I couldn't help but join in, grinning madly as the soggy knight pulled himself and his horse from the pond. 

"What are ye laughing about, fair miss!?" He demanded haughtily, removing his helmet and shaking his hair. The girl was still doubled over laughing, so I answered for her. 

"I think you need to work on your aiming a bit," I suggested. 

"I am not in need of your opinion!" the knight answered curtly, stalking back to his own painting with a dark expression on his face. Still grinning, I turned and came face to face with the most striking pair of hazel eyes I had ever seen. 

"Hello," a voice, seeming to belong to those amazing eyes, spoke up softly. 

"H-hello," I stammered, feeling the familiar surge of red creep up into my cheeks. 

The eyes looked past me for a brief moment before returning to mine. "Looks like our brave friend over shot his target again." 

I looked over my shoulder at the soggy knight, brooding over his failure, looking quite dejected. The young woman had composed herself somewhat, but still giggled as she laid in the grass. 

"Yea," I smiled. "Poor fellow." 

The eyes smiled back. I finally saw they were connected with the face and the body of an attractive man, seemingly in his late twenties or early thirties. His hair, light brown with uncharacteristic streaks of grey, looked unkempt but endearing. His clothes, although slightly ragged and worn, were worn with a nobility and dignity only few could manage without arrogance. "I don't think I've seen you around here before." 

"I just moved here. About a week ago." I lost my smile at the memory. 

His eyes seemed to search mine for the hidden meaning behind the words. "Oh." 

We stood in an uneasy silence. I found new interest in the wooden floor. 

"Are you a student at Hogwarts?" he finally asked. At my nod, he seemed to relax again. "Right… I'm a teacher there." 

"Oh really? Wow. That's cool." I didn't know what else to say. Aside from a sudden bout of disappointment in his social order, I felt a small twinge of happiness. At least I'd know someone there aside from Draco. "What do you teach?" 

"Defense against the Dark Arts," he answered promptly. "Incredible class, I think. I love to teach it." 

"Have you taught there long?" 

"Well…" his eyes clouded over. "I taught for a year, but resigned. Then, due to some unchangeable circumstances, I was taken back into the fold." 

I knew better than to pry, but I couldn't help but wonder what those circumstances were.

"Oh, I'm sorry—I didn't even introduce myself," He rolled his eyes at his lapse and grinned. "Professor Remus Lupin." 

"Casey Franklin," I took his extended hand and smiled back. I could tell I was going to like Defense against the Dark Arts. 

"Well, Casey, I'm sure you didn't come in here to talk to me," he laughed. "I'm sorry to have kept you." 

"Oh, it's no problem at all…" I murmured, transfixed by those sparkling hazel eyes. "At least now I'll know someone at school." 

"You'll meet people soon enough," he assured me. "With those eyes and that pretty red hair, you'll have more friends than you'll know what to do with." 

I bit down on my lower lip, embarrassed. One minute my hair was a curse, the next it was a beacon for friends to flock to. 

"Well…" He seemed to sense my uncomfortable silence. "I guess I'll see you up at school then?" 

"Yea, at school," I echoed dimly. He flashed me one more smile before pushing open the door and exiting outside. I watched him go, feeling a rush of witty things I could have said now that he was gone and it was too late to speak them. I hit myself on the forehead for making myself look so stupid in front of him, then whirled around to face a new speaker. 

"Can I help you?" 

A petite woman, with cascades of long blonde hair streaked with gold, had come up behind me. 

"I, uh, I was just…looking," I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. People needed to learn how to catch my attention other ways than from behind, I decided. 

"Anything you want in particular?" Her watery blue eyes were soft and kind, and I felt myself smiling back at her. 

"I was just looking-" I began. "I mean, I've never seen paintings that moved before." 

She tilted her head to one side. "You're accent is American, isn't it?" 

"Yea," I forced a nervous laugh. "I'm pretty new to all this witchcraft stuff." 

She broke out into a big smile. "Welcome to a whole new world, luv." She gestured around her store with an arm bedecked in hundreds of sparkling bracelets. "Where paintings move, where brooms can fly, and where magic can happen." She took my hand and led me to a row of paints. "You have the soul of an artist. I can see it in your eyes." 

I blushed again. 

"And here at _Painted Runes_, it is my job to get that artist outside to see the world." 

She launched into a spiel, which basically informed me of the supplies she had in stock, the prices they cost, and then showed me several tools I had never before encountered in any art class before. 

"This paint is what brings those pictures to life," she explained, holding up a tube of _Life Like Enamel _paint. "You simply brush this onto your finished artwork, and it'll take a life of it's own. Mind you," she hurried on, seeing my panicked expression. "Paintings are only that. They can move from one painting to another, but can never leave the canvas." 

"Oh," I said faintly, feeling lightheaded at all the information swimming in my brain. 

"So is there anything you'd like in particular today?" 

"I think I'll stick to the Colored Quills and ParchPak," I mumbled faintly, reaching for the wizard-equivalent to colored pencils and sketchpad. She nodded, taking them to her front desk to ring them up. Then she kindly offered to help me figure the difference between a Galleon and a Sickle, which is what filled my leather bag. I thanked her profusely for her help and hurried out the door, checking my watch to make sure I wasn't late to meet back with the Malfoys. 

I was. 

"Look who decided to show up," Draco muttered hotly as I ran towards them, trying to keep my packages in the giant cauldron I was lugging. 

"I'm sorry!" I panted, coming to a stop in front of them. "I lost track of time-" 

Uncle Lucius saw my bag from _Painted Runes_ and pulled on it. "What in hell is this?" 

I tried to grab it away from him, but he overshadowed me by a good six inches. "A bloody art book!?" he said, his face red as he peered into the bag's contents. "What in blazes is this for!?" 

"To draw with," I managed to grab the bag and stuff it back into my cauldron. "I like to draw." 

And, as I had expected, all I got in return for my admission was a curse of how my damned Muggle father had taken all the sense from me and left it at the door. The ranting continued well through the walk to the car (which had been parked in a London alleyway before we had magically tapped a brick into Diagon Alley) and all through the ride home. By the time I had gotten my stuff from the car and into my room, my head was swimming with hundreds of insults and retorts, and places where Uncle Lucius could stick his "bloody Muggle" remarks. Yet they all failed me, much in the same way I had been powerless to dazzle Professor Lupin with my charm at the Art store until he had already walked out. 

And at any rate, I would never have the nerve to call Uncle Lucius anything bad to his face. It was him, after all, who had given me a home when I had no where else to go. And it was he, despite my initial misgivings, who was sending me to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I would soon be learning how to use my big long stick as well as the next girl. Maybe even better, if I practiced hard enough. 

With newfound determination and strength of will, I was able to survive the following week leading to our departure for Hogwarts. 

Chapter Three: of grapefruit and Newspapers

The Sunday we were to leave, I was a wreck. I slept very little the night before, and had to continually check and recheck to make sure my trunk had been packed with everything I would possibly need at this school. I had even managed to smuggle in a pack of stamps to mail Mrs. Kalstrom letters, like she had asked. I doubted the wizards' mailing system (notes tied to owls) would be effective across the Atlantic Ocean. 

Finally, at five a.m., I gave up hope of rest and simply sat cross-legged on my bed, staring through one of the windows at the rising sun. It reminded me of the vacation I had taken with my parents two years ago, to the East coast. We had our own private condo on the beachfront, and every morning I would wake up to see Mom and Dad, sitting so close there was no air between them at all, watching the sun rise together. They had been so in love with each other, even after all those years. The only thing I wanted right then was to see them, smiling at me with that warm, sweet look they had, and telling me they loved me. 

But, as I forced myself to remember, they were in the ground over 200 thousand miles away. Incapable of warm smiles or well-wishes. 

A knock on the door startled me out of my daydreaming. 

"Casey! Are you awake!? It's almost time to go!" Aunt Narcissa's voice sounded muffled through the heavy wooden doors. 

"Can't we just leave her here?" Draco muttered, passing in the hall. 

"I'm up!" I called back, finding my voice strangled and choked. It was only then that I realized I had been crying. 

Standing, I wiped my cheeks furiously, smoothing out the bedspread of any wrinkles. Doing one last check through my trunk, I summoned all my strength and pulled. 

Seconds later, back on the carpet, I decided I should ask for help. 

When I entered the dining room, Uncle Lucius was buried in a newspaper, The Daily Prophet. I could see Aunt Narcissa, her back turned to us, cutting grapefruit in the kitchen. 

"That damned Weasley has his head in other people's business again," Uncle Lucius called out, not noticing I was standing there. "Searching for Death Eaters among us. What a laugh, putting that fool in such a position. Likely to get himself killed." 

"Is that so bad?" Aunt Narcissa asked sweetly, setting the fruit on plates. 

Uncle Lucius laughed coldly. "Get 'im off our backs at least, right?" He turned the page. "Stupid git better watch himself, or he'll find his whole family dead before long. Deistron and Gabble have already been traced to threats." 

"But you're much more careful, Lucius." Aunt Narcissa turned, two plates in her hands. She saw me standing there and froze. 

"Morning," I mumbled, avoiding her eyes and dropping into a chair. Uncle Lucius lowered the paper, his eyes on me, before slowly raising it again. 

"Mornin'," he replied coldly. 

"Did you sleep well?" Aunt Narcissa asked, her voice sounding unusually controlled, as she set a plate down in front of me. 

"Yea," I lied, not up to discussing the details of my insomnia with her. "I couldn't lift my trunk, though—could someone please help me after breakfast?" 

"I'll get Draco to bring it down," Aunt Narcissa assured me. She took a seat across from me and started eating her own grapefruit. 

"Get me to do what?" Draco asked sleepily, emerging from the hall. 

"Help Casey with her trunk," Narcissa said. "There's more grapefruit by the sink." 

"I'm not getting her load for her!" he said angrily. "I'm not her manservant!" 

Aunt Narcissa shot him a look that quieted him immediately. "Fine," he muttered, kicking at the carpet with his shoes as he grabbed breakfast. "Anything else you need me to do for you, _Majesty_!?" 

I ate my fruit in silence as he continued with snide comments and nasty glares. 


	2. Default Chapter Title

Same bit: belongs to JK Rowling, aside from Casey and Remus. :)

Chapter Four: Of HWSNBN and other Acronyms

When we arrived in the train station, I was told to start walking to Platform 9 and Three Quarters. 

"There is no platform 9 and-" I began, but then I shut up. From what I had been through the last two months, I knew better than dispute anything they said. And, as I had expected, there was soon an explanation. 

"Just walk towards the barrier," Uncle Lucius ordered, trying to look fatherly. 

"This oughta be good," Draco muttered, crossing his hands over his chest with a smirk on his face. "It'll knock her out cold!" 

I raised my head up defiantly, desperate to prove Draco wrong. Without even thinking of the consequences (or if this was some cruel joke on my part), I grabbed the handle of my trunk and walked towards the very solid and painful looking barrier. Two feet from it, I squeezed my eyes shut. But instead of stopping dead, I found I was still walking, well past the two feet. I hesitantly opened one eye, then both, as I saw a great train next to a platform marked 9 ¾. 

"Whoa…" I felt myself becoming very dizzy. I dropped to my knees heavily, head aching with the feat I had just accomplished. Within seconds, the Malfoys were next to me. 

"Hurry up!" Snapped Uncle Lucius, already halfway to the train. "If you miss it, I'm sending you to a boarding school in Switzerland!" 

I sighed and obediently dragged my trunk towards the edge of the platform. Hundreds of kids, from about 11 years to my age, were standing about in small groups, saying their goodbyes, or running from one person to another with "HEY! How are you!?"s ringing out. I suddenly felt very small and alone. 

"Go on, then!" Aunt Narcissa pushed me towards the train impatiently. "Get on!" 

"Well, thanks for everything-" I began, but when it became obvious they couldn't care less about a word coming from my mouth, I gave up and boarded the Hogwarts Express. 

If the noise and confusion on the platform had been chaotic, on board it was magnified by ten. I managed to make it to the very end of the train without any bodily harm, and sank into the empty compartment with a sigh of relief. I watched stragglers racing to the train as it's whistle blew, then the throng of parents, some weeping, others grinning madly, began waving as the wheels began their turning. Within minutes, Platform 9 ¾ was out of sight, and the Malfoy's bitter coldness was behind me. The lack of sleep from the night before finally caught up to me, and I was soon falling asleep against the huge window. 

"Hey, isn't that the girl-" 

"SHHH! She's asleep! Don't wake her up!" 

Voices, hushed but urgent, suddenly split through my dreamless sleep as the compartment door slipped open. I tensed, but kept my eyes shut. 

"I wonder what she was doin' at Flourish and Blotts with the Malfoys," a third voice added, not bothering to hide the disgust in their voice. 

"It doesn't matter," the first voice, female, cut through, annoyed. "What matters is that this is our last year at Hogwarts!" 

"Life just won't be the same without it," a morose, male voice said sadly. 

"I won't miss Snape, that's for sure," the third voice, also male, added. The other two muttered their agreement. 

"I saw Professor Lupin getting on earlier," the female said suddenly. I turned my head slightly to hear better. 

"That's great, Dumbledore hiring him back and everything." 

"He's the best Defense against the Dark Arts teacher we ever had." 

"Wonder how he got back in?" 

"I dunno. Maybe he threatened to bite someone at the Ministry of Magic." 

"Ron! That is not funny!" the girl was indignant. "After all Professor Lupin's done for us, and you have to go and make jokes about him!" 

"Aw, ease up, Hermione," Ron muttered sheepishly. "I was just joking." 

"It's still rude!" she insisted. 

I suddenly felt someone leaning over me. "Wonder who she is?" Ron whispered. 

"Didn't she say her name was Casey?" the second male asked. 

"Think we should wake her up?" Ron asked evilly. 

"Nah, she looks tired." 

"What's so interesting about a sleeping girl?" Hermione asked angrily. 

"What's interesting is that we've never seen her before, but she had Seventh year books-" started Ron. 

"And she was with the Malfoys," added the other. 

"And who really cares!?" Hermione muttered. 

"Let's wake her up!" Ron said, excitedly, despite Hermione's muttering. 

I blinked my eyes open before they had a chance to do anything evil to me. Two pairs of eyes were all looking at me with great curiosity, and one pair was watching me with guarded disdain. 

"Allo." 

"Hello," I echoed back, dimly aware of a throbbing headache forming in the back of my head. 

"Isn't your name Casey?" 

"Yea." 

"Hey. I thought it was you. My name is-" 

"Let me guess," I cut him off, sitting up and rubbing my temples. "You're the dirty, filthy, poverty-stricken Weasley boy; you're the nasty little ruddy Mudblood; and you," I pointed at the third boy, "are the attention-starved mediocrity who rose to fame on a fluke. Am I right?" I flashed them a bright smile. 

"Why you little-" Ron made a move as to grab my throat, but I grabbed his hand halfway. 

"Don't worry—I'm merely a product of society. Those views expressed aren't necessarily my own." 

"You're a Malfoy, aren't you?" Hermione asked nastily. "I can tell that right away." 

"Lighten up, you guys," I laughed at the severe disapproving looks on their faces. "I'm just repeating what I've been told." I extended my hand. "Casey Franklin." 

"Ron Weasley," Ron shook my hand hesitantly, still trying to debate whether or not my joke had been serious. 

"How's Fred?" I asked, grinning. His face relaxed. 

"Good."

I turned to the second boy. "Who're you?" 

"Harry Potter," he said, than instantly winced, as if expecting some blow to the head. 

"Are you afraid to be Harry Potter or something?" I asked, perplexed at his reaction. 

"Eh?" he raised an eyebrow at me. "Aren't you goin' to gawk at my scar?" 

"Why would I gawk at your scar?" Now I really was confused. "I have a scar, too. Do y'wanna see mine?" 

All three exchanged looks. "You mean to tell me you don't know who Harry Potter is!?" Hermione looked ready to attack. 

"Other than the egotistical attention-starved wizard I see before me, no," I shrugged. "Why? Should I?" 

"You're not from around here, are you?" Ron rolled his eyes. 

"Look who just caught on! No, Ron, I really am from around here," I waved my hand to indicate 'here'. "I just use this cheesy American accent and eat Reese's Pieces for the hell of it." 

"You _are_ a witch, aren't you?" Hermione asked, looking doubtful. 

"Everyone tells me I am. Or maybe they've been calling me something else and I've just confused the two…" 

"How can you not know who Harry Potter is!? He single-handedly caused the downfall of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named (who, from thus forward, will be referred to as HWSNBN to cut down on space) sixteen years ago!?" Hermione was extremely upset.

"Who the heck is HWSNBN and why shall he not be named!?" 

"Bloody heck, she doesn't have a clue what we're talking about!" Ron looked as if he wanted to rip his hair out. 

"Hey, giv'er a break, eh?" Harry grinned at me. "I was the new kid once, too," he explained. 

And so, the remainder of my voyage on Hogwarts Express was spent with explanations, a brief history, and an introduction to my new witch-y life. (all of which can be summarized and explained by reading HP Books I-IV) When they had finished, I sat back with exhaustion. 

"Wow. I had no idea it was so complicated." 

"But you still haven't explained why you're here, now, starting at Hogwart's seven years late," Harry reminded me at the end. 

"Let's just say…I found out my heritage after an unexpected accident." I purposely left out the exact accident. "And when I got here to England, with my Aunt and Uncle, they told me I was a witch." 

"Draco's your cousin!?" Ron finally got the connection. 

"Yea." I grinned. "But believe me, I was behind you 100% at that bookstore when you were trying to turn him into a newt." 

All three found sudden interest elsewhere. Hermione, however, kept shooting me glances of pure poison. 

"How do we know you're not another Malfoy?" 

"How do I know _you're_ not?" I shot back. 

"Do I look like a Malfoy!?" 

"Do I?" 

"Actually, you look quite a bit like a Weasley," Harry muttered. 

"Why do you answer my questions with questions!?" 

"Why are you asking me so many questions!?" 

"Why don't you just go…jump off a cliff or something," she muttered crossly. 

"Why don't you stick your broomstick up your-" 

I was cut short by a grinding halt and the screeching of brakes. 

"We're there!" Harry, looking relieved to have our conversation turn, flashed all three of us happy looks. 

"We'd better get our things," Ron started heading for the door. "See ya in the Great Hall, Casey." 

"Bye." I watched them go before yanking my trunk off it's baggage rack. Noticing everyone else pouring off the train in robes, I decided it would be in my best efforts to remain inconspicuous and slipped my own on. More like a trench coat than a witch robe, really.

Once cleared of the obstacle of removing the trunk from the train, I was soon bustled towards an enormous castle with the rest of the herd. 

"Firs' 'ears, over 'ere!" A booming voice called, holding a lantern above his head. I was momentarily stunned by his size, but was soon rushed to the castle doors before I could stare further. 

"Casey Franklin?" 

I turned to see a tall, grey haired woman peering down at me through bifocals. "Yea, I'm Casey." 

"Professor McGonagall," she introduced herself quickly. "Leave the trunk and follow me." 

I was led into an enormous banquet hall, crowded with students in four distinct colour coded areas. I saw Draco, trying his best to look mean, flanked by two blank-eyes cronies at one end, and my three train-pals seated at another. Ron caught my eye and waved energetically. Harry gave me a bright smile, but Hermione, still sore about our conversation, simply turned her nose up and looked the other way. 

"We'll have to get you into a team," Professor McGonagall was explaining, leading me to a line of frightened looking eleven-year olds. "I'll come get you after the sorting." 

I watched, palms sweaty, as kids sat down and put on this decrepit hat, then, knock-kneed and scared, walked to the applauding colored area that they had been sorted into. 

"Franklin, Casey." 

I took a seat and, trying not to look too nervous, pulled the hat down over my ears. 

_My, you're a bit old to be sorted, aren't you, dear?_

_Oh…my…god… The hat…is _talking _to me…And I understand it…_

My life could not have gotten any creepier at that moment. 

_You've been through a terrible ordeal this summer, haven't you?_

_You could say that. The Malfoy's _are_ pretty scary. _

I had never known hats could sigh with frustration before then. 

_Yet you're alive and healthy. And, dare say it, happy?_

_Not ecstatically happy, but still… Like I said, after the Malfoys, anything has to be happy._

_You're a brave young woman. _

_And sarcastic. Don't forget sarcastic. _

_Of course. A brave and sarcastic young woman. _

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Whoa, what're the odds?" I muttered, removing the hat and climbing unsteadily to my feet. Gryffindor, the table at which sat my two friends and one narrow-eyed enemy, was applauding it's newest selection. The first two scooted their chairs down more andpulled over an empty chair for me. 

"Thanks," I mumbled. 

I saw Draco leaning over to mutter something to one of his cronies, a sinister smirk on his thin face. Whispering something evil, no doubt. 

After the sorting had been completed, an old, kind looking man stood from a table at the very head of the great hall. 

"That's Dumbledore-" whispered Harry. "He's the headmaster." 

I nodded my understanding. 

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" he boomed across the hall. Everyone cheered, clapped, or made other contributions to the noise. "It is my distinguished pleasure to greet each of our new first years-" -more cheering- "and to welcome back one of our most beloved teachers of Defense against the Dark Arts, Professor Lupin!" 

I finally noticed Professor Lupin, looking very tired, but still as handsome and warm as that day in Diagon Alley. He broke out into a grin, his hazel eyes crinkling as he looked out on the roaring hall. 

"That's Lupin," Ron leaned over Harry to tell me. "He's the best teacher here." 

Dumbledore went on to address several issues concerning the school year, including that strange Quidditch word again. 

"We're going to win the cup again!" Harry and Ron agreed together. 

I simply nodded, pretending to know what the heck was going on. 

And then, as the kindly headmaster had seated himself again, the table was covered in food. 

Everyone dug in energetically, while I was left to stare at all the strange dishes set before me. 

"Aren't you hungry?" Ron asked, reaching over me to grab a pitcher of thick, orange liquid. 

"What is this stuff?" I poked at a lumpy looking thing in front of me. 

"Liver and kidney pie," Harry helped himself to a big serving of it. "It's great." 

I made a face. "Don't you guys have hamburgers?" 

"What, our food isn't good enough for the great and wonderful Malfoy!?" Hermione asked bitterly, purposely shoving my elbow into the table as she grabbed the liver and kidney pie. 

Feeling shamed, I helped myself to a little of a white pudding, which turned out to be rather good. Growing bolder, I tried several dishes, some edible, some not. But by the end, I had eaten enough to make myself full. 

Professor McGonagall sought me out after dinner, as promised. She congratulated me on being a Gryffindor (of which she was the headmistress) and led me down twisting halls and up winding stairs until we reached their tower. 

A painting of a big fat lady hung on a wall, blocking our route forward. 

"Sparklecore," McGonagall murmured, and the lady swung aside, revealing a big hole through which I could glimpse an enormous sitting room. "Remember that password, Casey—it's the only way in," she warned. I obediently made a mental note. 

"I noticed you sitting next to Miss Granger at dinner," McGonagall went on, leading me a flight of stairs. "Her dormitory has an empty bed, since Lari Welks left last year. I figured it'd be nice for you to have someone you know…" her stern expression softened. "Truly, though, Casey, if you ever need anyone…to talk to… any one of us would be more than happy to listen." Her hand weighed down on my shoulder, warm and friendly. 

"Thank you," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the deep purple bed covers. 

"I've also arranged for Miss Granger to help you out for the first few weeks… tutor you, try to get you caught up with the basic knowledge needed for seventh year classes." 

"Thank you," I repeated, finally noticing my trunk had –magically- turned up in the large room, suited for four students. 

"She'll get you orientated," McGonagall assured me, as the sound of clamoring footsteps began echoing on the stairway. "Well, get some rest, Casey… You'll learn as we go," 

With one last warm smile in my direction, she bid me goodnight and left the room, just as Hermione and two other girls entered. When she saw me, her smile dropped instantly. 

"Oh, we got you." 

"I know, I know, hold me back, right?" I forced a laugh, opening my trunk. "Look, I know I might've gotten on your bad side on the train, but really… if we're going to be pretty much inseparable for the next few weeks, I suggest we drop all hostilities and embrace each other as friends. Whaddya say?" I flashed a big cheesy grin, holding my arms open in a welcome gesture. 

"Eat baoblepus worms," she muttered crossly, pulling off her heavy black robes to reveal a green dress underneath. 

"Why?" Sybil, another roomie, asked. "What'd she do?" 

"I'm a smart-ass American with an over-excessive personality." I answered shortly, closing my dresser drawer and sitting on my bed. 

"Don't think I'm going to be your best friend or something, just because I have to spend all my free time with you." Hermione added. 

I turned around to look at her. "For someone who professes to detest Draco so much, Hermione, you sure do share the same train of thought." 

Her face reddened, giving me a small amount of satisfaction, before I took my bath things and headed out to brush my teeth. 

"What was that all about?" Gretchen, the other girl in the room, asked as I left. 

"Nothing," was her answer. 

Chapter Five: Of Blood Welt Potions

At breakfast the next morning (which I was walked to by Ron, while Harry tried to appease Hermione' seething anger) we were given class schedules. Another introductory message from Dumbledore, then a bell rang, signaling the start of my first day of witchcraft school. 

As we walked towards a class called Potions, I was given the lowdown on the Professor. It was not a happy report. Made even worse by the doubling of Gryffindor with Slytherin, Draco's team. He sneered at me as I entered the room with Ron. 

"Already found losers to be friends with, orphan?" 

I set my jaw and stalked past him to a table in the back of the room. 

"I can't believe you two are even remotely related," Ron muttered, setting his bag down. 

"Quiet down!" a harsh voice snapped, drawing attention to a tall, bony, greasy man with an enormous hook nose and long clumps of black hair. I guessed him to be Professor Snape. 

As he launched into what we would be covering over the course of the year, his eyes kept shooting to the back of the room at me. "You! Recite the ingredients needed for a simple blood welt potion!" 

After looking behind me to make sure it was, indeed, me he had singled out, I broke into a smile. Ron shook his head and tried to cover his face; Harry shot me a look of sympathetic pity, and Hermione and Draco waited eagerly for my admission of unknowing. 

"Well, Professor Snape, sir, if I read my book correctly," I kept my eyes on his, "a simple blood welt potion is the result of two hours brewing of three newt tails, one liter of snake venom, three quarts water, and a healthy dose of Jaraniam Fungi." 

Many emotions flickered over his oily face. But it finally settled on a sneer. "You're the new American, aren't you?" 

"Yes, sir, I am." 

"I should have known. Fifty points from Gryffindor for your attitude." 

As several of my fellow Gryffindors voiced their displeasure at such an obvious discrimination, I felt my face heat. 

"Sir, with all due respect, I see no reason why we should lose 50 points for a correct answer!" 

"Are you questioning my authority?" he asked, an eyebrow raised in interest. 

"No, sir, I'm simply questioning your reasoning behind your thinking. Why should we lose points when I answered a question you had asked me to answer!?" 

"Shall we make it sixty points?" 

"No, Professor, we shall make it zero points! I answered what you asked! I see nothing wrong in doing that!" 

"I shall see you in detention tonight, American." He grinned, showing yellow, disgusting teeth. 

I opened my mouth to dispute that, too, but Ron put a hand on my arm to restrain me. 

"It's not worth it," he muttered. 

So I sank back into my seat and tried to ignore the pious looks Hermione kept shooting me. 

The day went by uneventfully, marred only by the detention Snape had assigned from that morning. I wanted to discuss it with McGonagall, but both Harry and Ron assured me it would be pointless and silly. 

"She'll probably assign another one," Ron muttered moodily, hands shoved in his pockets. 

So I sat though lunch, Charms, and two hours in the library with Hermione without another word. 

"Are you paying attention!?" she snapped, seeing me doodle on the paper she had asked me to fill out. 

"Wha-? Yea!" I blinked, bringing the paper back into focus, and pretended to concentrate on the question at hand: _Who was the Goblin leader of the Attack on Hursteasd, 1823? Explain how he came to power. _

"Say, Hermy," I set my pencil down and leaned forward on my elbows. "What's the use of me knowing this stuff anyway?" 

"I've already told you! These are the final exams for each of the classes we've taken in the last six years! The most important stuff to remember is on them." She looked annoyed at my interruption of her reading. "And my name is Hermione." 

"Right." I sighed and picked up my quill again. 

After my tutoring session was over, I grabbed a very quick dinner, then, unwillingly, trekked into the halls towards Snape's dungeon. 

I had brought a book and some papers in case he held the same kind of detentions I was used to (I doubted it) and was hurrying around a corner when I ran smack into someone coming from the opposite direction. 

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry," I apologized, sinking to my knees immediately, grabbing for my scattered papers. 

"My fault, wasn't watching where I was going-" he kneeled down, trying to help me gather them. 

I turned my face upwards, recognizing that warm voice instantly. "Professor Lupin!" 

His eyes met mine for a moment before returning to the papers. "Hello, Casey." 

"Wow, you remember me." I stacked some papers. 

"Shouldn't I?" he grinned, his eyes sparkling. 

"Well, I just meant… You have a lot of students, you know…" 

"Yes, but only one of them has even been inside _Painted Runes_ before." 

We both straightened. He handed me a stack of papers. "Do you draw a lot?" he asked, nodding down at the paper he held in his hands. It was a drawing of my parents I had been working on for a while. 

"Yes." Barely audible. 

"Who're they? People you know?" 

I grabbed the drawing from his hands roughly. "Used to."I had found new interest in my dirty sneakers. "Thank you for helping me."

"Not a problem-" he began, but I had already hurried past him, wiping tears from my cheeks and shoving the drawing into the middle of my papers. 

Chapter Six: You are _HERE_

"Well at least you're punctual," Snape growled as I entered his creepy dungeon minutes later. He glared down at my papers. "What is that for?" 

"I, uh…It's a present!" I lied brightly. "For you!" 

His eyesnarrowed. "I'll have to warn you, Ms. Franklin, I am not impressed with your attitude." 

"Yea… I forgot about that…" I sighed. "Right. Well… what should I do?" 

His sinister face grew sinister. (A master of redundancies, I am) "Since you're so obviously fond of papers,"He motioned towards the back of his classroom, filled with book upon book of notes, parchments, and scattered recipes. "File." 

Shoulders slumped, I silently pulled down the first box of papers, set it on a desk, and set to work. Within five minutes, my hair was escaping from it's sloppy ponytail, there were eight stacks of papers, and I was sitting on top of the desk, cross-legged. Snape, who was sitting at his desk, going through several heavy books, gave me several glances as I went about filing. It surprised me he didn't even scold me for sitting on the desk. 

"Formulas…SnakeSkin Memory Potion!?… Umm….notes on side effects…" I whispered to myself as I sorted, stacked, and filed. It went on like that for several minutes before I got that nervous sensation of being watched. I lifted my head from the Uses of Unicorn Blood, my eyes meeting with Snape's dark ones. 

"Am I bothering you?" I asked, uneasy. "I mean, I'll stop talking to myself…" 

"No, you're doing fine." He continued to stare at me. 

"Right…" I turned back to my papers. 

Several more minutes ticked by. 

"I knew your mother, American." 

My head swiveled back to his desk. He had leaned back in his chair, an arm draped over the back of his chair. 

"She was a beautiful woman." He went on. "A little on the trusting side…not a good thing for a witch to be. But beautiful." 

"T-thank you." I finally managed to say. 

"She used to sit right over there, in that corner seat, in this very same classroom. Of course, that was nearly twenty-five years ago... Professor Castana taught the class back then." 

I didn't know what to say. So I simply stared at him, heart aching for my mother. 

"When she chose to leave Hogwarts… It was a great disappointment. She showed great promise." 

"I miss her," I admitted softly. 

Snape leaned forward, staring at me critically. "You don't look much like her at all. Where on earth did you get that red hair from?" 

I shrugged. "I'm not sure. Dad didn't have red hair, either. I guess I just got lucky, eh?" 

Snape said nothing, and I slowly resumed my work. But I could almost swear I heard him whisper, "I miss her, too," before I focused on the papers in my hands again. 

Two hours later, I was dismissed and allowed back to the dormitory. I, however, being the bumbling fool that I am, lost myself very soon and very easily in the winding halls. 

"Help," I whispered, suddenly very uneasy. Every creaking, moaning, or slight rustle caused me to jump. And my watch was telling me it was getting later and later into the night. After an hour ofroaming without any human contact (I had even tried to return to Snape's classroom, but to no avail) I finally sat down on a bottom step and buried my head in my arms. 

"Are you lost?" 

Once again, someone decided to come up from behind and say hello. 

"What the heck-! Yes! Yes, I'm lost, I'm very tense right now, and you just scared the living crap outta me!" I turned on the speaker angrily. It was Professor Dumbledore. He smiled down at me warmly. 

"My most humble apologies, sincerely," his eyes were sparkling. 

"That's ok," I took a deep breath. "Did you ever think to put Hall Maps or something out here…? Y'know, those big ones that say 'You are here', and have a little red dot indicating you…?" 

"It has been suggested," he replied with a grin. He settled himself down on the step next to me. "How are you?" 

Something told me he was asking about more than my health. 

"I've been better." I wrapped my hands around my knees. "Kinda homesick." 

"That's understandable." 

Silence. But it was an easy, comfortable one. He finally stood up. "I better get you back—it's pretty late." Then his eyes narrowed as a half grin spread across his face. "What are you doing out this late anyway?" 

"Oh, uh…" I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Detention." 

"Already?" An arched eyebrow. 

"I wanted to get a head start on the year." I yawned, stretching my arms up over my head. "Right. Walk slow so I can make a mental note to myself on directions." 

He did.


	3. Default Chapter Title

You know the drill: JK Rowling, save remus. 

Chapter Seven: Incompetency and its Effect on Tutors

Two days later found me lost again, only this time I was missing precious lunch time. To make matters worse, I had forgotten Hermione's Charms book she had lent me upstairs in the room, I had lost another fifty points for a correct answer in Snape's class (although I did manage to score a detention from it) and I had misplaced my DADA book, which I would be needing after lunch. 

The thought of seeing Professor Lupin, someone who might actually make my day better, cheered me somewhat, as I finally found the Great Hall and the halfway-eaten lunch. 

"Where've you been?" Harry asked curiously, pushing his glasses up his nose as I slammed my bag down and sank into my chair. 

"I swear they need to mark these halls with signs," I shook my head, already piling chicken salad sandwiches on my plate.

"They're not that hard to get straight," Hermione muttered under her breath. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Are you two still fighting?" 

"Did you bring me back my Charms book? I want to finish some reading-" Hermione stopped her sentence at the look on my face. "Is it really that hard to remember something so simple!?" 

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I was in a hurry-" 

"Do I need to write it on your forehead!?" 

"I'm sor-" 

"God, you're such an incompetent twit!" she pushed her chair back angrily, heaving her loaded bookbag over her shoulder. "You're like a child, Casey!" 

"Where're you going?" Ron asked, already starting to stand up. 

"I can't finish my lunch because some moron here couldn't handle the simple task of bringing my book down with her." She shot me a look of hatred, then stalked out of the emptying hall. Ron hurried after her, but gave me an apologetic smile before leaving. I was left to stare at my plate, no longer hungry. 

"Hey, don't let her bother you," Harry said softly, leaning over to look at my face. "She's just high-strung sometimes." 

"It's my fault, I should've brought down her book…I mean, honestly, how hard is it to remember that?" I shoved the chicken salad sandwich away from me. 

"It's just a book-" 

But nothing he could say made me feel any better. 

As we headed towards the DADA room, I did feel slightly better. At least I knew this class would be ok. 

"Welcome, welcome… go ahead and take your seats…" Professor Lupin greeted us all with a warm smile, sorting through some papers on his desk. "Hello Harry, Casey…" 

I mumbled something back at him and took a seat in the back corner, Harry taking the seat next to me. 

Once everyone was in and seated (Hermione and Ron on the opposite side of the room) Professor Lupin launched into a discussion on Farklers, a slimy green tree goblin that ate hair. 

"The way to repel a Farkler is simple," he explained, sitting on the edge of his desk. "Who'd like to help demonstrate for me?" 

His eyes surveyed the classroom, most hands raised eagerly in the air. Obviously everyone remembered his class from four years ago. 

"Casey." His hazel eyes rested on me, the only one not volunteering. "Go ahead and bring out your wand, then repeat after me-" 

"My wand?" I repeated, a very bad feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. "Um…" 

"She doesn't have her wand!?" Hermione whispered loudly. "Gawd, she really is incompetent!" 

"I-I didn't realize I would need it…" I began, as everyone began howling with laughter. "I haven't had to use it before—I didn't think…" My face could not get any brighter. Tears of humiliation filled my eyes. One spilled out as I saw Professor Lupin, my supposed savior for my bad day, was laughing along side the students. I bit down on my lip, drawing blood, and struggled to fight back the tears. 

"You really should have your wand with you everywhere, Casey-" Professor Lupin started, his smile still bright on his face, bringing me to the breaking point. 

"Hey—hey, are you alright?" Harry's hand was resting on my arm, his bright green eyes looking at me with concern. "Casey-?" 

"I'm fine!" I shook off his arm, wiping tears away with the back of my palm. Lupin, finally taking notice of my reaction, stopped smiling abruptly. He clapped his hands to get the class' attention. 

"Alright, alright… Hermione, would you please demonstrate?" 

As she smiled smugly, raising her wand above her head, Professor Lupin walked back to my desk, where Harry was still trying to calm me down. 

"Please stay after class," he murmured softly, tapping a hand on my desk before taking a position against the back wall, watching as Hermione showed the proper repelling charm. The Frakler, who was smoking green wisps, gave a gasp of pain before disappearing in a puff. 

The next thirty minutes, spent taking notes and discussing the Frakler, I kept my eyes trained on my desk, except for a few times to check Harry's notes. Every time I thought of what had just transpired, my face would grow red once more, and my writing would begin to slant. 

When the bell finally rang after an eternity, I slowly climbed to my feet. 

"Do you want me to wait on you?" Harry asked me softly, slinging his bag over his thin shoulders. 

"You don't have to waste your time," I mumbled, following him to the head of the class. "But thank you anyway." 

He gave me one last smile, then hurried off to catch up with Ron and Hermione. I stood numbly by Professor Lupin's desk, waiting for him to explode and tell me what a poor excuse for a witch I was. 

After the class had cleared, he stood, leaning back on his desk across from me, hands crossed over his chest. I glanced up nervously, his bright hazel eyes studying me. He was silent for an agonizingly long time. And then, when I was beginning to think he was waiting for me to speak, 

"Are you happy?" 

The question, so different than the one I had been expecting, threw me off guard. "Am I—am I happy?" I repeated, mulling it over. "What kind of a question is that?" 

He titled his head to one side and flashed me that crooked smile of his. "The kind of question you've been needing to be asked." 

"Sure. I'm happy. I've had one of the worst days of my life today, and came here expecting to find some relief, only to be mocked and laughed at by someone I thought I could respect-"

"I didn't mean to single you out, Casey, I truly didn't. I had no idea I was making you cry." 

"Picking someone who didn't raise their hand, letting everyone laugh at me, then you join in yourself. Yea, I can see how that was an accidental "Coulda been me" type of situation." 

"I simply meant," he raised an eyebrow, "that you've been deflecting things like this since you arrived—I merely thought you'd see the humor in the situation and make it into a joke."

"I'm sorry I disappointed you in my lack of sarcasm today." I muttered darkly. 

"Hey-" he bent down to see my eyes. "It obviously hasn't left completely." 

I scowled, glaring down at the floor. 

"I do apologize, Casey, honestly I do… But you have to admit, up to today, you've had a quick retort to everything. I simply felt you'd do likewise when I called on you." 

My eyes burned. "I'm not always the wise ass I pretend to be, you know." 

"I know that now… But I have to ask, why do you even pretend?" 

"Because being a wise-ass is easier than being honest." I shifted my bookbag on my shoulder and met his eyes. They were full of a warm concern I had missed since my parents had died. For a long moment, we simply stood there, feet apart, yet some how closer than anything as our eyes battled and searched for the hidden secrets we each seemed to be sharing. 

"Would you like some tea?" 

He sure could change the subject quickly. I shrugged. "I guess so." 

Turning his back to me, he drew out his wand and prepared a kettle of hot water. Then, while he waited for it to boil (the long way) he removed his heavy robe and set out two teacups from a drawer in his desk. I noticed, not for the first time, how thin and frail he looked in his grey sweater. His hair, which had a habit of falling into his eyes, was flecked with grey, and when he turned to pour the water, I noticed how tired he seemed. Thin, tired, and weary, but still handsome enough to make me wish I was older. 

"It might be a little sweet," he warned, handing me a cup. 

"Thank you," I murmured, sipping at the water. 

"Why don't you take a seat, Casey?" he nodded towards the desk I was standing by, then settled himself down into his chair. "While we're on the subject of apologies…I have to apologize for Monday… your drawing… I didn't even stop to think about what I was saying." 

I lowered my head, tilting the tea cup in circles. "You didn't know." 

"May I ask what happened?" his voice, soft and soothing, washed over me, comforting me. 

"I thought everyone knew." My throat was tightening. 

"I know the basics, Casey… What I want to know is about you. What happened to you?" 

I lost all interest in my tea and bit down on my lip, trying to steady my voice enough to answer him. "It doesn't matter. Not anymore. It's past. Not important." 

"You're a terrible liar," he smiled at me. 

But I didn't return it. I set the cup down on the desktop and stood up. "I better go before Hermione gets mad at me for missing tutoring." 

"Casey-" He stood quickly, his own cup of tea forgotten. "Please---I want to help you, not hurt you." 

"Some things hurt too much to even think about, Professor Lupin." I had one hand on the door, ready to bolt. "Let alone talk about." 

"Sometimes when you talk about something, it makes it hurt less." 

The offer was tempting. Professor Lupin, asking me to spill my heart and soul to him and offering to comfort me while I did… But the shame and pain of the truth no one knew overcame my pounding heart and I opened the door. 

"Thank you for the tea," I whispered softly, before closing the door on his concerned expression. 

"Honestly, I don't know how I'm supposed to teach her anything!" 

I stopped short, ducking behind the row of books hiding me from view of Hermione and Ron, both seated at a table, waiting for me to show up. 

"Give her a break, Hermione… She's trying her best." 

"She doesn't have the sense she was born with!! Not bringing her wand with her to class… 'Because I didn't think I'd need it'," she mimicked sourly. "God, I wish it'd a been in Snape's class… He would've torn her to pieces!" 

"Why don't you like her?" Ron, sounding slightly exasperated at Hermione's ranting, asked. "I think she's nice. And Harry thinks she's the best thing to happen to Hogwarts since Cho Chang!" 

"I don't like her because she seems to think she's immune to everything! 'I don't need to be tutored, I'm already the smartest person in the world!'. And, 'Gee, Snape, didn't you realize you can't give me a detention!? I'm perfect! Just because I'm a big show off shouldn't merit me a detention!'. It's disgusting." 

"You're jealous!" Ron said suddenly, as if just realizing the world was round. 

"Of her!? Are you kidding!? What's there possibly to be jealous of!?" Hermione sounded offended. 

"I can't believe I'm just now realizing it!" 

"How could I be jealous of a pompous American orphan with out enough sense to bring her wand to class!?" 

"You're jealous because Harry likes her! I mean, you've had a crush on the kid since our second year, and he barely knows you exist! Then in comes this pretty new girl, and in three days, he's totally falling for her-" 

"I do not have a crush on Harry!! And he has more sense than that, to go liking someone like her-" 

"-and she has every guy in the school watching her wherever she goes…she's smart, she's funny, she's one of the sweetest girls I've ever met-" 

"You don't get out much," Hermione muttered bitterly. 

"-and because everyone likes her." Ron finished. 

"You're crazy. I am not jealous of her." 

Ron snorted. "Sure. Right." 

"I'm not! How in the world could I be jealous!? I'm just upset because _I_, who _obviously_ has nothing better to do with her time than lead some senseless git by the hand to the bathroom at night, am forced to waste my time catering to her! '_Yes_, Professor McGonagall, I'll take Casey to breakfast, talk to her, be her friend…. _Anything_ for the new girl…'." Hermione lowered her voice. "Honestly, why couldn't she have stayed in America where she belongs?" 

Ron had opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he saw me standing behind Hermione. She went right on, despite his desperate attempts to silence her. 

"It's all _her_ fault my last year at Hogwarts, which is _supposed_ to be the most fun, will be the worst year ever… Dumbledore should never have let her in so late, I don't care what the reason was. Nothing could be worth admitting another Malfoy into the school…" She suddenly stopped, noticing Ron's frantic movements. As she turned to face me, her sneer turned into a look of frantic terror. I stood there, staring at her. 

"I am truly sorry I'm such an _inconvieiennce_ to you, Hermione…" I whispered finally, hands clenched tightly into fists at my sides. "I realize now how stupid it was for me to come here… Y'know, next time I see my parents, I'll let them know how unwanted I am here. I can just go right up to their gravestone, say 'Allo, mom, dad, how's it going!? Look, I realize you must have been in a _tremendous_ lot of pain, crushed in that car for three hours, _bleeding_ to death while waiting for someone, _anyone_, to find you and get help… But God, couldn't you have at least thought of how Hermione Granger would feel about this!? Didn't you even have the _decency_ to think of how she'd feel, being forced to tutor me at a school I never knew existed, after I was told I was something I didn't even know was possible!? How insensitive can you be, mom and dad!? All you care about is yourselves, isn't it? Not even a single fleeting thought of Hermione, or of my mysterious uncle you never told me about, for that matter. What is _wrong_ with you? Putting two people in so much misery, just because _you_ got hit by a drunk driver. What kind of an excuse is that for making Hermione Granger's life such a living hell?'."

I finished, heart pounding, eyes flashing, wanting to scream and cry and hit something all at the same time. "I'll be sure to tell 'em that next time I get to see 'em, ok?" I grabbed the books she had brought for me to study from. "Don't let me be a bother to you anymore. I'll go teach myself how to be a witch. Shouldn't take too long—according to you, I'm already half-way there." 

"Hey Casey, wait-" I heard Ron standing, but had already turned my back and started stalking out of the room. Mouth set in a determined line, I pounded my way through the hall, towards the North Tower and the Gryffindor Common room. 

Halfway there, it finally caught up with me and I sank to the floor, books spilling everywhere, and began sobbing. 

"What's the matter?" 

I looked up from my spot on the floor and saw Harry, broomstick in hand, looking down at me in concern. 

"Nothing," I managed to croak out, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. 

Harry frowned, stooping down to look at me face to face. "Can't be nothing… You're eyes are all swollen up and your sleeve is soaking wet." 

"I have a cold." I turned my face away from his prying green eyes. 

"Casey." His voice, deep and commanding, forced me to look back at him. "What happened?" 

I busied myself with gathering my fallen books, keeping my back to him. "Hermione was simply explaining the burden of tutoring to me, and I decided it'd be better for her if I did it by myself." 

"What did she say to you?" I saw him grabbing some books out of the corner of my eye, his broomstick leaning against the wall. 

"Nothing important—it was a mutual decision." 

"Then why were you crying?" 

"I wasn't." Books gathered, I stood. "I better get going on these books!" I forced a smile. "I want to get my homework done before detention!" 

"Casey-" Harry grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "You can trust me." 

"I make it a rule not to trust anyone." My bright smile faded. "But I'll keep that in mind next time I get an urge to break a rule." 

We stood, staring at each other, both willing the other to say something. Harry's hand, still clamped around my arm, loosened. 

"I'll be out on the Quidditch field if you need me for anything." 

"Thank you, Harry. Truly." I bit down on my lip. "It's nice to know I have a friend to talk to when I need it." 

With that, I took my books from him and headed upstairs to my room, where I promptly crawled into bed after peeling off my black robe. The room was growing darker and darker with the approaching twilight, and as I stared outside the window, I could see the first glimmer of the moon appearing over the horizon. The tiny thumbnail shaped sliver was barely enough to cast a glow on the ground below, but it sparkled brightly nonetheless, content and happy to simply be there. 

Without realizing I had even fallen asleep, I was waking up to a pitch black darkness. The moon was high above the school by now, giving me a sudden lurch as I realized I had probably missed dinner, and would be late to my detention. Moaning at the absolute cruelty of the day, I stumbled down the stairs to the common room, blinking in blinded surprise at the vast difference in the lighting. Several people were scattered about, playing Wizard Chess, laughing by the fireplace, or doing homework with friends. Ron, Hermione, and Harry were all seated at one table, books spread open, heads bent over parchment. Harry lifted his head in time to see me walking by, and offered me a soft smile on my way out. 

"Have fun," he murmured. 

"I'll try," I answered back, already out the Portrait Hole. 

Chapter Eight : Professor Snape and the Jig of Jubilant Joy

"You're late." 

"I know. I'm sorry—I feel asleep and no one bothered to wake me up." 

"Why would they? It's not their responsibility to see you to your detentions on time." Snape glared at me from over the top of his cauldron, which bubbled and smoked with a wispy green smoke. 

"Will you please not yell at me tonight? I am not having a very pleasant day, I've already been yelled at once, and I'd really like to stay on a civil level with you." I put a hand on my forehead and winced at the pounding headache I could feel forming. 

Snape leered at me. "Get to work, American." 

"That's another thing," I lowered my hand and made a face. "I have a name, just like you.And, contrary to popular belief, it is not American. I don't call you Potions, do I?" 

"Don't make it any worse than it is, _American_," he stressed the last word, as if challenging me to say something back. But my wit and sarcasm had been used too much already that day, so I silently pulled a box from the back wall and set to sorting it. 

About an hour into the detention, there was a knock on the dungeon door. Seconds later, Lupin entered. 

"Good Evening, Professor Snape," he greeted warmly, his hair sticking up in many odd places, as if he had fallen asleep on his arms. I looked up from my stacking for a moment, heart racing as I remembered our earlier conversation. 

Snape, not even bothering to return the welcome, kept stirring his cauldron. I opened my mouth to say hello to the Professor, but Snape shot me a quick look that told me, quite simply, to stay out of it. 

Lupin, not in the least bit daunted by the lack of a greeting, took a seat in the first row, not even noticing me in the back of the room. "I came to ask you about what you said to me at dinner," he folded his hands neatly on the desk top. 

"About _Melody_?" Snape finally spoke, eyes glinting evilly. 

"Yes…" Lupin sounded edgy. "What did you mean when you said she was in danger?"

Snape laughed softly. "Oh, my dear Remus… How sentimental and brave you get… Ready to save the damsel in the slightest distress. Not," his smile widened gleefully, "that you've had many damsels wanting your chivalry." 

Lupin's shoulders sagged slightly. "Something I'm sure you're pleased at, Severus?" 

"I don't take pleasure in your…sickness… Remus… But I do take an interest in it. Especially when it threatens your relationships with… other people." He added something to his brew. "How is she?" 

"As introverted and withdrawn as I was at her age," Lupin sighed heavily. "I wish there was something I could do to help her… She seems so troubled… It's like she's screaming at me to notice what she's feeling, but can't bring herself to open her mouth and let me hear." 

I struggled to think of anyone I might know named Melody. No one came to mind. 

"You could always give her the truth potion," Snape suggested. 

"Y'know, I thought of that…" Lupin nodded. "But how would I get it to her? And you know how terrible I am at potions…" 

"I'm sure I could make something…" Snape looked delighted at the thought of provoking the truth from an unwilling body.

There was a long silence, in which I tried not to be noticed. It was very hard, sorting papers quietly. 

Lupin leaned on his hand, staring at the floor. "Every time I see her with Harry… It's just like James and Lily again." 

Names I recognized. My ears perked up with interest. Harry's parents, meaning Harry and someone he hung around with… But I couldn't remember a Melody he might know. 

"Her eyes," Lupin was continuing, sounding far-away. "God, those eyes…" 

A pang of something—jealousy?—hit me at the sound in his voice. I shook it away with a scoff at how stupid I was to be jealous of someone one of my teachers knew. 

Snape was looking like death personified as he stared at his fellow teacher. He obviously did not approve of the way Lupin was speaking of her eyes, either. He poured the Cauldron contents into a goblet and shoved it across his desk towards Lupin roughly.

"There." 

"Thank you, Severus," Lupin stood up, hand closing around the stem of the goblet. "It's appreciated." 

Snape's eyes suddenly turned very small and evil. A sinister grin lit across his face. "Let me ask you something, Remus… If you could learn the truth from her… What would you do with it?" 

Remus (a beautiful name, I decided) stopped his trek to the door and turned back to Snape. "Nothing I shouldn't be doing." His voice had taken on a hard, almost warning tone. "I only want to help her get past the pain, Severus. Nothing more." 

"Until you see 'those eyes' again," Snape laughed coldly. I was shocked. Snape, _teasing Lupin_? The world had lost all meaning. 

"It's a strictly professional interest, Severus. No more, no less." His hand had tightened it's grip on the goblet and his voice sounded more controlled and even than normal. "She is a student to me, not a woman." 

"There are ways of…altering her memory," Snape trailed off, letting his eyes finish his thought. 

Lupin, who seemed to be doing battle with himself, frowned at Severus. "I will never be tempted to fall to such depths, Severus. Ever." 

"Then you'd better watch who you speak of her eyes to," Snape warned icily. "Or you may find yourself out of a job…_again_." His eyes turned colder and he turned to face me directly. "Did I give you permission for a break, American?" 

"Did I give you permission to be such a slave driver, Potions Man?" I muttered crossly, glancing up. 

Lupin, who had turned to see who Snape was speaking to, stood staring at me from the doorway. His face, usually pale, had turned even whiter. "Hello, Casey," he said softly, fighting to keep his voice even. 

"Hello, Professor Lupin." I turned my head back to my work, trying to keep my expression calm and neutral. "Better go before Potions Man starts making you file stuff, too." 

Lupin laughed softly, before turning to head out the door. "Thank you for the potion, Severus. And goodnight, Casey." 

"Goodnight," I whispered softly, watching him leave, but Snape simply stood, staring at the spot Lupin had just vacated, an evil smile lurking on his greasy face. 

"Got him," He whispered maniacally. And then, to my mounting horror, he did a little half-step on the dungeon floor, chanting "Got 'im, got 'im," over and over. He was so enthralled with himself, he seemed to have forgotten I was even there, and continued shaking his hips in a triumphant jig. 

"Uh….erm…. Professor Snape?" I finally called him out of his revere. "D'ya think I could go to bed now?" 

Agitated by my interruption, Snape waved a hand at me in impatient dismissal. 

"Thanks," I mumbled, already halfway out the door. 

Snape, who had sunk into his chair with a contented smile on his face, watched me walking out. "Pleasant dreams, American," he whispered, his voice contradicting his words. 

"Sure. You too, Potions." 

I hurried upstairs before he had a chance to think of something else to say. Or before he started dancing again. That was just waaaaay too freaky. Even for me. 

When I crawled through the portrait hole, I saw Harry sitting on the couch by the fire, waiting for me. 

"How was it?" He asked, leaning his head backwards to watch me walking in. 

"It's was fine-" I looked at him, puzzled. "What're you doing up?" 

"I need to talk to you." 

I groaned inwardly. Why did everyone have to talk to me? "About what?" I asked, sinking into the couch next to him. 

"What happened today. In the library." 

I jumped back up. "Hey, y'know what? It's kinda late…." 

"Why do you always avoid these things?" Harry sounded exasperated. 

"Always? You've known me for three days, how could you possibly think I do this always?" I muttered, but was already sinking back into the comfy sofa cushion. 

"Oh, here… I figured you'd be starving since you missed dinner…" He held out a plate of food. I grabbed it eagerly. 

"Wow, thanks! You are my hero!" I grinned, stuffing Shepard's pie down my throat. He watched me with a smile. 

"Hermione says she's sorry, that she had no idea your parents had been killed." Harry said, as I finished my dinner, his eyes downcast. "It's not exactly common knowledge, you know, and I think a lot of people are curious about it." 

"Then a lot of people are gonna stay curious. It's not something I like talking about." I replied hotly. 

"I can understand that." He gave me a half-smile. "But she is sorry." 

"Then why can't she tell me herself? How come you're the one apologizing for her?" 

"She wanted to---but it was late, and-" 

"How convenient." I stood up. "G'night, Harry. Pleasant dreams." I echoed Snape's words without even realizing it. 

Harry sighed. "When will you stop running away from your problems, Casey?" 

"When I'm ready to." I answered, then turned to head upstairs to bed. As I crawled under the covers, I could sense Hermione, not sleeping, but watching me. I quickly turned my back to her to keep her from having any sudden conversational urges, and tried to fall into a dreamless sleep. 

Chapter Eight: It's Been One Week {later}

The following few days passed quickly. I was happy to know I wouldn't have a chance of getting another detention until the following Monday, but Lupin and Snape's conversation still hung in my ears, creating a new topic of interest for me to mull over. 

I was prepared to ask Lupin about it (despite the apparent gap between my business and his own private life) the following Wednesday, in DADA, but he wasn't there. 

"Lupin is, as you all will know by now, under the weather," Snape greeted us coldly, a sneer on his greasy face. Several students whispered and I heard a few people in the back of the class howling like wolves. Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a look that excluded me (like usual) and shook their heads at everyone's reactions. 

"Open your books and read ages 89-126." Snape ordered, his black eyes flicking over to me as he tried to think of some reason to attack. "Casey! What is that!?"

He was referring to my notebook, the one Muggle-Made thing I carried with me everywhere. It held all my drawings and sketches I liked to work on while pretending to pay attention in class. 

"Nothing-" I tried to cover it with my bag, but it was too late. 

"DETENTION!" he barked instantly. 

"What the heck!? DO you have some kind of rage-filled vendetta against red-heads or something!?" I muttered. 

"One more word from you, American, and it'll be two!" 

"Greaaaaat, then tomorrow in Potions, you can give me two more! I'll be booked all week. My social life sure has jumped since I got here," 

"THREE! AND," he grabbed at my notebook before I even registered he had moved towards me, "I'm taking this." 

"Hey-give that back!" I stood up, making a grab for it. He pulled it out of my reach. 

"Sit down right now, and read the pages I've assigned." His voice was low, deadly. I sank back into my seat, knowing better than to dispute that tone. "You may have it back at the end of class," He added, already cracking it open to peer at the doodles inside. 

I lowered my head miserably and started reading the chapter on Gremlins. 

"May I please have my book back now?" I asked, standing in front of Snape at the end of class. 

He leaned back in his chair, staring at me. I waited. He stared. I held out my hand. 

"You can have it back tomorrow." 

"What!? But you told me I could have it back-" I closed my mouth, eyes narrowed. "Fine." 

"Go to my classroom for your detention tonight." 

"Will Professor Lupin be back tomorrow?" I asked angrily. 

Snape's lips turned up into a mocking sneer. "He'll be back when the moon sets. Why? D'you miss him?" His eyes looked pointedly at my notebook, and I remembered the drawing of Lupin's profile I had drawn last week. 

"Simply curious," I muttered, turning to leave. 

"Casey-" 

I looked back at his victorious grin. 

"—I'd be careful around Lupin… He's not who you think." 

"Why are you telling me that?" I asked suspiciously. 

But all I got for my question was a mysterious smirk. 

"Do teachers go to Madame Pomfey when they're sick?" I asked Harry at lunch later on. 

"I think so. Why?" 

"I wanted to go see Professor Lupin… See how he was feeling." I answered distractedly. 

It seemed like all conversation around me halted for a fleeting moment before picking up again, slightly louder. 

"Er, Casey…" Ron leaned forward, keeping his voice low. "You do realize Professor Lupin's not…sick…" 

"Snape said he felt-" 

"Lupin's a werewolf, Casey." Ron said. 

I stared at him, not getting the joke. "Sure he is." 

"No. He really is." Harry nodded. "He stays in his office during the full moon so no one will get hurt around him. It's why he left four years ago---everyone found out he was a werewolf and he had to leave… Dunno how he got to come back, though. Not complaining, of course." He went right on eating as if it was a totally normal conversation. 

I decided to play along. "So he's in his office, then?" 

"Probably. Or in the Shrieking Shack." 

"Then I'll just go check there." I ate my lunch without another word. Then, since my afternoon was free until three, I decided to take Harry up on his word and see if Professor Lupin was in his office. 

Unfortuantly, I never got there. Dumbledore saw me walking alone and stopped me. 

"Lost again, Casey?" 

"Oh, no, I wasn't…lost…" 

"Ah. Only offices and teacher rooms back there. Nothing you'd be in need of. Or is it?" he peered down at me through his half-moon glasses. 

"No. I'm good." I shrugged, then turned around. "See you later." 

"See you later," he repeated. 

Snape was being particularly nasty to me that night. 

"Stop that incessant singing! Work! Or you'll find yourself back here every night for the remainder of the year!" 

"What made you such a bitter person!?" I asked, shaking my head and hauling out two boxes of papers. "You're so angst-ridden, it's terrible!!" 

"None of your damn business," he snarled. "And no more talking!" 

I shot him a look of puzzled, and hateful, confusion, but silently worked on. 

As the minutes ticked on, I could feel his eyes constantly on me, as if daring me to break a rule. 

"Ok, at the risk of another detention, I have to ask-" I threw down my papers and turned on him in disgust. "What is it about me that you hate so much!? Why do I have detentions every night while people who disrupt class more than me simply get points from their team!? I mean, honestly, if you needed someone to file for you, all you need to do is ask. I wouldn't have minded doing a favor. But to demand me here every night, then to stare at me and ridicule my every move!? It's ludicrous!" 

He smiled. "If you must know, American, I find you entertaining." He held up my notebook. "And amusing." 

I scowled. 

"Tell me… Do you find Professor Lupin to be… interesting?" he tapped the page with Lupin's profile. "You've drawn him many times." 

"I simply respect and admire him," I said stubbornly. 

"Well I daresay he may well feel the same about you." An arched eyebrow accompanied his words. I stared at him. 

"What do you mean?" 

He leaned forward on his hand, seeming to enjoy my confusion. "Lupin has a certain…respect…for you." 

I blushed without meaning to. "Oh. Is he very sick?"

"Not at all." 

I looked up. "But you said-" 

"He has an illness, Casey, but no medicine could help him." 

I thought of his words, but decided to remain silent. 

"You may leave." He dismissed me with the wave of his hand. "And take this with you," he thrust my notebook out towards me. 

"Thank you," I mumbled, grabbing it and hurrying out before he asked me any more questions about Lupin. 

By Friday, he had returned. He welcomed our class with warm smiles, but the hollows under his eyes clearly stated his two days leave of absence. I found it very hard to concentrate on his lesson, with his eyes darting to meet mine from time to time, and with my own eyes trained on his every move when he wasn't looking. 

As class ended, he sank into his chair, looking exhausted. "Have a good weekend," he called out wearily to everyone as they shuffled out. I hung behind, waving Harry on, and stood next to his desk, waiting for the class to be empty. 

"Yes, Casey," he offered me a warm and tired smile, stacking homework papers on his desk. 

"I was just wondering…" I was transfixed by his fingers as they deftly straightened the papers. "Just wondering… how you were feeling?" 

"How am I feeling?" he repeated, looking slightly surprised at the question. 

"Yes, Snap-er, Professor Snape, told us you were ill." 

"I was. But I feel much better now, thank you." His hazel eyes, so deep and expressive, met mine. I stared back, remembering Snape's words, and soon looked away. 

"Good. Well… have a good weekend." I turned to leave. 

"You too, Casey." 

I heard the click of his briefcase being shut, one hand on the doorknob to leave. But something made me turn back. 

"Professor Lupin?" 

He looked up, waiting for me to continue. 

"Is it true, what they said…" I bit my lower lip. "That you're a werewolf." 

His eyes turned down and his fingers tightened slightly on the handle of his briefcase. "Who told you that?" 

"A lot of people were saying it… I didn't believe them, but then Snape said—" I cut myself off. "Well, he said something along those lines." 

Lupin's eyes darkened at the mention of Snape. 

"Is it true?" 

He leaned back into his seat, finally meeting my eyes again. "Yes, Casey, it is." 

I wasn't sure how to react. My first instincts were to run, as I had been raised on bad horror films with man-eating werewolves. But something in his eyes, in his face, struck my heart and made me calm.

"Does it hurt?" I whispered. 

"Some." He forced a laugh. "You'd think, after 25 years, I'd be used to it." 

"How did it happen?" my heart was pouring out to the man sitting before me, who had suffered an ordeal so tragic for so long. 

His smile was wistful and sad. "I'm afraid that's where I'll end the conversation." 

I nodded, knowing what he meant. "Sometimes talking about it makes it hurt less," I suggested, echoing his words. He remembered the exchange and nodded. 

"Perhaps one day," he said, ending the conversation. "Now," he stood up. "I expect you're hungry. Would you care to join me for a cup of tea in my office?" 

"I would really like that," I answered truthfully. 

He walked to the door, his expression gentle as he held open the door for me and followed me out.


	4. Default Chapter Title

JK Rowling. Enough said. 

(love you, remus…)

Chapter Ten, of Tea with Lupin

Tea went by fine, with my heart pounding at his proximity the entire time. His office was small, but comfortable, and extremely interesting. Books, written parchments, odd looking tools, and various personal items covered tables, shelves, and walls. 

"Where did you get all this?" I asked in amazement, softly touching a diagram of the solar system. 

"From place to place." He shrugged, setting a tea cup down in front of me. "I hardly stay in one place for long." 

I was about to ask why not, but from the faraway, semi-bitter look on his face, I pretty much realized without asking. "Oh." 

"Isn't this the weekend for Hogsmeade?" He asked, changing the subject. 

"Yea-" I nodded, "Harry asked me to go with him. He and Ron were going to show me what Quidditch was, but Hermione got mad at them for ignoring her, so Harry said he'd just show me around." 

He laughed. "Hermione really has it out for you, doesn't she?" 

I smiled distractedly, pulling a book from off the shelf. _Art through the Ages; A look at Wizard Works._

"Have you drawn anything lately?" He asked, nodding at the book I held in my hands. I was staring at the pages, awestruck by the beauty that shifted and moved before my eyes. 

"Not really," I admitted. "I haven't had any free time at all." 

"Do your other teachers really give you all that much homework?" 

I laughed and shook my head. "Snape's got me on detention for the rest of the week. I barely have time to do my homework before dinner, let alone draw." 

He leaned back against the bookcase I was standing by and studied my face. "Why?" 

"I dunno, he just doesn't like me, I guess. Even when I don't say anything in class, he gives me a detention. Biased, if you ask me. God, look at how colorful this one is," I tapped the open faced book and sighed wistfully. "I wish I could do stuff that good." 

"He gives you detentions for no reason?" 

"Huh?" I looked up and met his furrowed brow. "Yea." 

"Does he ever ask you questions about… well, anything?" 

"Actually, he gets mad when I talk. I can't even sing to myself without getting another one. He tells me to shut up, I file, and he stares at me." 

Lupin started mumbling under his breath, a hand to his forehead as he began pacing. 

"What's the matter?" I finally tore my eyes from the drawings and watched him pace curiously. 

"Nothing," he waved a hand at me in distracted thought. 

I started to feel as if I were taking up valuable space in his office and started edging towards the door. "Well, uh, thank you for the tea… I guess I'll see you Wednesday or something…" 

I don't think he even noticed I had spoken. He had sunk to the small bed in the corner and covered his face with his hand, mumbling. 

"Goodbye," I whispered, shutting the door behind me softly. And then, hurrying to the Common Room, I allowed myself to grin at the way his hair had a sexy habit of falling into his incredible eyes. 

"Where've you been?" Harry asked the moment I sank to the couch in front of the fire. 

'Y'ever notice how you're the only one to ever ask me where I was? And it's always when I sit down." I said suddenly, just then realizing it. 

"Right…" He scooted himself a bit to the other side. "Well then," 

"I was having tea with Professor Lupin," I explained off-handedly. "When do we getta go to Hogsmeade?" 

"As soon as breakfast is over," Ron jumped in excitedly. He and Hermione were engaged in a game of Wizard Chess. 

"What's there to do?" 

I listened attentively as they poured out every secret in Hogsmeade, from the Zonko's joke shop to the Shrieking Shack. "Where Lupin used to have to go when he transformed," Hermione said, forgetting she wasn't speaking to me. 

"Did he ever tell you guys how he got turned into a werewolf?" I asked curiously. 

"Actually, no," Ron shrugged. "Never really thought to ask him_ how_ it happened…" 

"Weren't you ever curious!?" 

"Not really…" Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I always figured he didn't wanna talk about it, otherwise he'd a told us already." 

"Do you know a lot about him? I mean, other than he was a werewolf?" I tried to make it sound like an innocent inquiry, while inside I was burning to know everything I could. 

"He was best friends with my dad," Harry said softly. 

"And his nickname is Moony," Ron added. 

"And Snape hates his guts," Hermione put in. "That's pretty much it." 

"Oh." 

I watched them play in silence. Harry tapped my arm. "Hey, Casey?" 

"Hm?" 

"I was just wondering if maybe… Well, next Saturday, it's the first Quidditch game… Were you gonna go?" 

There was that dratted Quidditch word again. "You play, don't you?" 

"He's the best damn seeker in over a hundred years!" Ron boasted proudly. 

"I mean, I was just wondering if you'd come…" Harry was going on. 

Hermione, who had relaxed into a semi-civil mood, instantly glared at me, waiting for my answer. 

"I suppose so," I shrugged. "It'll be nice to finally know what Quidditch is." 

They all stared at me before bursting into laughter. "You'll love it," Ron assured me. All Harry could do was smile crookedly. 

"Hey, gotta run—Detention time." I stood up. 

"What does he make you do!?" Harry asked, exasperated. "Every night!!" 

"I file papers," I made a face. "I can't complain, though.. Better than de-gumming desks." 

I left them to look after me in puzzled confusion, except for Hermione who called out, "Have fun!" with a large amount of sarcasm behind her voice. 

Chapter Eleven: Consequences of Tea With Lupin

When I got to Snape's dungeon, he already had company. Lupin and Dumbledore were seated in front of Snape, apparently waiting for me to arrive. When I entered, Dumbledore rose to his feet. 

"Casey—a word, please?" 

"Sure Professor…" I shot a puzzled look to Snape, who was glaring at Lupin with death in his eyes. "What's up?" 

"Have you been reporting to Detention every night for the past week and a half?" he asked me kindly. 

"Well… no, not on Saturdays or Sundays…" 

"Were you told the reasons for these detentions?" 

"No…" I became very aware of Snape's flashing eyes as they shifted from Lupin to me. 

"Yet you come, no questions asked?" he raised an eyebrow, a bemused look on his face. "Why is that?" 

"I figured he had a reason… and it wasn't up to me to dispute it." I shrugged. "Was I wrong?" 

Dumbledore chucked softly, shaking his head. "No, no, Casey… But I think we might have to have a discussion about the amount of punishments you've been receiving in one week." His eyes flicked to Snape. He scowled. 

"So I don't have to file papers tonight?" I asked hopefully. 

"No," he laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You can go back to the Tower. Have some free time for a change." 

I found new interest in the floor. "Thank you," I mumbled, then turned to leave. Dumbledore said something to Lupin, who stood up and gave Snape a disgusted look. 

"I'll walk back with you, Casey," He said, already opening the door for me. I mumbled a goodnight to Snape and Dumbledore, a thank you to Lupin, and walked out. 

We walked down in silence. I wanted to say something witty, but my mind was drawing a blank so near to Lupin. I could smell his aftershave, a deep, sweet smell, and all went blank. 

"Oh-" Lupin suddenly came to life and turned to face me. "I wanted to give you something." 

I watched him curiously as he pulled out _Art through the Ages_ from the folds of his robe. He wiped a piece of lint from the cover and handed it to me. "I was going to give it to you earlier, when you left, but I suppose I got sidetracked and missed it…" 

I stared at the cover, my finger tracing the cover lightly. "Thank you," I whispered, totally floored. "You didn't—I mean, … Thank you." I looked up, surprised to find myself looking through blurred eyes. His face relaxed as he saw my smile and he returned it slowly. 

"It's not much—I didn't really have any-" 

"I love it." I blinked back the tears, only one betraying my valiant struggle. I wiped it away quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice. "And… And thank you for sticking up for me with Snape… I mean, you didn't have to do that…" 

"He has no justifiable reason to keep you in there for two hours every night," Lupin lowered his head, his hands jammed into his pockets. "But you're welcome." 

I held the book to my chest, following him silently. The companiable warmth emanating from him was such a comforting change to the cold indifference I had grown accustomed to from Snape and his detentions. I began to think, my heart racing as I contemplated what I was planning to do. Planning to confess. 

As we neared the North Tower, I summoned allmy courage.   
"Professor Lupin?" 

"Yes?" 

We had stopped in front of the stairs that led to the Common Room. I could faintly hear laughter coming from behind the Fat Lady, who had stopped her reading and was watching us curiously. 

I bit on my lower lip, debating with myself. And then, in a rush of strength, I spoke. 

"It was the last day of school." 

He tensed, his expression turning to one of intent concentration. It gave me courage to go on.

"I was so excited, we all were… Only one more year of school to go, then we'd be free… A kid in my science class 

was having a celebration party. Everyone was invited. And everyone was going." 

I took a deep breath as he watched me, waiting. 

"Everyone but me. My mother told me no. She said she had a bad feeling about it—she was afraid I'd get into trouble or something, I dunno. I figured it was just a mother's over-protective worry. And we started to fight. And yell. We'd had fights before, but none were ever that bad…. It was the first time I ever told her I hated-" My voice caught in my throat and I took a deep breath, forcing myself to go on. "Told her I hated her. Slammed a lot of doors, locked myself into my room. Sobbing like a baby at how cruel she was, how unfair she was being. 

"My best friend called to see if I needed a ride. When I told her what had happened, she told me to sneak out. She'd come pick me up at the corner, where Mom wouldn't see me. I was stupid enough to agree. And, blaring my CD's, I made sure the door was locked, and I climbed out my window." 

I had to take another deep breath. Lupin hadn't moved, but I could tell he was listening. 

"We got to the party---it was so stupid. Most people left after an hour, there was nothing to do. Eat a lot of food, drink a lot of beer… Basically mess the guy's house up pretty damned good…" I forced a laugh. "Then, about 10:30, his parents showed up. Turns out he wasn't supposed to be having a party. So they called all of our parents to come get us—tell them where we were, what we were doing. When they got mom and dad on the phone, they asked to speak to me. I had forgotten how mad I had been earlier—now I justwanted them to come get me and bring me home… They were mad. But the didn't yell. No, yelling would have been so much easier… All they did was told me they were disappointed in me, but that they would be there in a few minutes and we'd talk. I was so afraid of the looks they would give me… I'd never done anything like that before, and I knew they would take it to heart—blame themselves for my behavior. They were always like that. Always." 

Tears had begun streaming down my cheeks in rivers. I ignored them and continued, nearing the end. 

"I sat and I waited for them, watching TV in the living room… A few minutes turned to an hour… Then two. And they hadn't come yet. Then there was a loud beep on the TV, the one that signals a Newsflash. And I knew. Right away, I knew-" I broke off again, trying to control the sobs rising in my throat. "There had been an accident. A bad accident. Two people, trapped in their car, awaiting help. They hadn't even been killed instantly. God, they were in agony for three hours—" 

I lost all vocal capabilities right then and stood, rooted to the floor, crying. Professor Lupin, his face a mask, touched my arm softly. 

"Casey-" 

I took a step backwards, up the stairs, avoiding his eyes. "I murdered them, Professor… They died because of me… And I told my mother I hated her…" 

"No, Casey, no," he held a hand out towards me, almost touching my hand. "She didn't believe you." 

I looked at him through watered eyes. His brown ones, full of warm, comforting, condoling sympathy, drew me to them like a magnet. Without realizing it, his arms were wrapped around me, his hand rubbing my back slowly, and his voice in my ear, soothing me. 

"Believe me, Casey, she knew you loved her… She knew without you having to tell her." He was whispering. I cried into his shoulder, the painful memories flooding back as if it had been yesterday. 

"It's all my fault their dead," I sobbed. 

"That's not true," He murmured. "You had no control over it." 

"She told me not to go—she knew… But I went anyway…" 

He pulled me closer, tighter. "Casey, listen to me… I knew your mother… She would've known, without you telling her-" 

I took a deep shuddering breath, clinging to his thin shoulders for dear life. "I wish I could just tell her… At least one time. To make up for it." 

"She can hear you. She's looking out for you." He pulled back, lifting my chin up with his hand. "She's always with you… She knows everything you wanted to say to her."

I wiped my eyes frantically. He held out a handkerchief. I took it with a trembling thanks. 

"I got your shirt gross," I whispered sadly, feeling as if the patch of dark grey on his light sweater was the cause for all my depression. 

"Don't worry about it," he dismissed it offhandedly. "It'll survive." 

I stood, suddenly feeling very queasy and embarrassed. "I've never really told anyone about this before… Most people think they died coming home together…don't know my involvement…" I forced a laugh. "God, you must think I'm such a baby," I raked a hand through my hair nervously, sniffing. "I don't usually-" 

"Don't," he put his hand over mine and gave me a heart achingly sweet smile. "You don't have to apologize." 

Unable to stay with him so close, especially when I remembered the way his arms had seemed to fit around me so perfectly, I decided it was time to go. "Thank you for the book," I mumbled, already starting up the stairs backwards. "I really like it," 

He watched me climbing up the stairs, his hands back in his pockets, an unreadable expression on his face. When I had reached the Portrait, 

"Hey Casey-" 

I turned to look down at him. 

"Thank you for trusting me enough to say that." 

I felt the smallest of smiles breaking through on my face. "You were right, Professor… Talking about it helps." With a short nod to him, I uttered the password and crawled into the Common Room. 

Chapter Twelve: Alliteration and Reconciliation

I spent the whole night, camped in front of the fire, looking carefully through each picture in the book Lupin had given me. He had obviously looked through it many times—many pages were dog-eared and there were hastily written notes in the margins by some drawings. Every time I saw one, it made me think of that sweet look of concentration he got in class, or when he was listening to me. Then I would remember the conversation we had had, the way he had held me, and then the way he had watched me climbing up the stairs. 

Snap out of it, I ordered myself sternly. He's 19 years older than you. And, he's your teacher. A Big No No, Casey. 

But I couldn't stop the faint smile from appearing on my lips as I read his notes on one painting in particular, a bright green lizard with purple tones. It walked around the page meanly, tongue flicking out as it surveyed his territory. Next to it, in Lupin's tidy professor writing, were the words "Juju—what ever happened to him? Hope Dad didn't really skin him for a pair of boots… Don't think he ever got big enough for one boot, let alone two…" 

"What's that?" Ron popped out from nowhere, leaning over the back of the couch at my book. 

"It's an art book," I showed him the cover. 

"Where'd ya get that from?" 

"Professor Lupin gave it to me." 

He raised one eyebrow. "Professor Lupin gave you a book?" 

"Yea." I shrugged. "He knew I liked art, but wasn't allowed to bring any of my own books." 

"Ah." He nodded. "Well anyway, I was sent to ask you if you'd be interested in going to the Hogsmeade Harvest Festival tomorrow?" 

"What is it?" 

"It's this awesome party—there's music, free food-" here he grinned eagerly, "-and tons of booths and games. Like a carnival—wizard style." 

"That sounds cool." I smiled. "I'm in." 

"Good." He ran off in a flash, already asking someone else if they were going to go, too. I shook my head, still laughing at his enthusiasm. When I looked back down to the book, a few pages had slipped by already. I turned to find where I had left off, but a yellow piece of parchment caught my eye, and I pulled it out of the book curiously. 

_Moony-_

_Don't get in over your head this time—I'm not there to pull you back to your senses. It's not the same, it's not happening again. HISTORY IS NOT REPEATING ITSELF. Don't do anything rash, or you'll be back here in the cave with me quicker than you can say Moony Wormtail Padfoot and Prongs. _

_--Padfoot_

_ _

I stared at the note, puzzled. 

"Hey, you're back early." 

I jumped, shoving the parchment into the book and snapping it shut, my head whirling to see Harry, a big grin on his face. "Why do people always have to jump out and scare me like that!?" I demanded, a hand to my heart as I tried to regain a normal breathing pattern. 

"Sorry." His grin turned to a smile and he shrugged, sitting next to me.

"Dumbledore told me I didn't have to go to detention tonight," I replied, remembering his question. 

"Cool." He started tugging on a loose string. "So, eh, you're gonna go with us to the Hogsmeade Harvest tomorrow?" 

"If that's ok with all members of the party?" I raised an eyebrow, nodding towards a glowering Hermione. 

"Yea, sure. It's not a problem." He assured me. "Even some of the teachers're going." 

"Wow." I tried to act impressed, but in reality, I wasn't sure if that was exciting or not.

He laughed, ducking his head. "So, eh…. You're reading a book!" he pointed at my book. 

"Yea," I glanced down to the cover. "I sure am." 

Our inane conversation followed for several more minutes, his bright green eyes meeting mine and holding them for longer and longer periods of time. And, despite the surge of warmth I got remembering Lupin's soothing comments, having those green eyes two feet in front of me made it seem so long ago. And at least he was plausible. My age, give or take a year. 

By the time we mutually decided to go to bed, I felt my cheeks would either burst from too much smiling, or spontaneously combust from the constant blushing. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." Harry said softly, walking me to the stairs. 

"Yea," I blushed again. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." 

I giggled (completely uncharacteristic for me) and stumbled up the stairs, noticing that he waited for me to reach the top before turning to head to his own rooms. The similarities of him and Professor Lupin were eerie. And as I climbed into bed, I found myself comparing the two in my mind. 

None of it mattered when I woke up. Hermione, a smug smirk of satisfaction (alliteration is cool!) on her face, was sitting on her bed, waiting for me to wake up. 

"Oh come on, I couldn't possibly have done anything wrong already today!?" I groaned, yawning. 

She ignored my comment and cracked the cover of an oddly familiar book. "Casey-" She read, from a written inscription, "-don't ever give up on your artwork. I can see your soul in it—a treasure more valuable than gold." 

I bolted upright, hands outstretched for my book. "That's my book!" 

"Signed, R. Lupin." She finished. She arched an eyebrow. "R. Lupin? On a first initial basis now, are you?" 

"Give it back!" I made a grab for it, but she easily held it over my head. "I didn't know he had written that!" 

She snorted. "Of course not." 

"I didn't!" I protested. "Please give it back!" 

"I wonder if Professor McGonagall knows about Lupin giving you gifts…" she mused out loud, tapping her chin in mock thought. 

"Please, Hermione…" I felt like crying. "It was just to cheer me up." 

"I know," she grinned, startling me. "It's too easy to get you upset." She handed me the book and leaned forward conspiratorially. "But if I picked a professor to get gifts from, it'd certainly be Lupin." 

I stared at her, shocked, as she winked at me. Hermione, winking. At me. 

"Hurry up and get dressed—we'll miss breakfast!"  
As I scrambled to find something clean, I shot her a suspicious look. "What's with you?" 

She shrugged, ducking out of the way of an airborne sock. "I figured the only way to get rid of you is by being your friend. Then I won't notice so much when you're around to bother me." 

"Thanks… I think…" I pulled a black sweater on over my head, my hair sticking up with static. 

"Come on, come on!" She grabbed my hand and practically ran me down the stairs. "So, honestly, what is going on between you and Lupin?" 

"What!? Nothing!" I tried to steady myself as we whizzed around a corner. 

"Oh come off it," she rolled her eyes. "Every day in class… It's like watching one of those sappy movies on the telly, back at home. If he's not lookin' at you, you're lookin' at him. Always asking you to answer in class…" she shook her head. "It's almost disgusting, if it wasn't so interesting." 

"I have to look at him! He's the teacher!" 

"Right…. And now he's giving you hard-to-find books? With a personal message signed R. Lupin!?" 

"He's twice my age!" 

"What'll Harry say when he finds out?" 

"There's nothing to find out about!" I began, but as we entered the Great Hall, she silenced me with a nod and sat down. 

I ate in moderate silence, shooting her looks of questioning and perplexing confusion. But she managed to avoid them, chatting on and on and on to Harry and Ron, both who were excited as anything about the trip. Their conversation, which I didn't understand a word of, finally tuned itself out of my mind, and I let my eyes wander the crowded hall. Draco, flanked as always by his two goons, was aiming muffins at an unsuspecting Ravenclaw youngster. When it hit her in the back of her head, she began bawling, and Draco was chastised by McGonagall. 

As I looked further up, I came eye-to-eye with Snape, who was glowering at me with a look of pure evil. 

I stared back, our eyes clashing as I could hear his voice in my head, "You got away last night, American, but you just wait till next time." 

I jerked my eyes away, face heating. Lupin, looking weary, was listening intently to Professor Flitwick as they both ate the same kind of muffins Draco was using as projectiles. Even from far away, I could see how bright his eyes were, as they flicked from Flitwick to the muffin in his hands, to Flitwick again. I could watch him forever…. So dreamy…

"A-_hem_." Hermione cleared her throat loudly, drawing my eyes back to the table I was seated at. 

"Huh?" 

"Are you ready?" All three of them were staring at me. 

"Yea, alright."


	5. Default Chapter Title

Blah blah, copyright. thankyou

Chapter Thirteen: An American in Hogsmeade

Hogsmeade was, as promised, an incredible place. We spent the entire morning seeing everything there was to see, every landmark, candy store, joke store (Where we ran into Ron's brothers, Fred and George, who were busily trying to sell some home-made gag gifts to the owners) and then to the Shrieking Shack, Professor Lupin's home during the full moons. 

As I stared up at the hauntingly desolate house, I felt a pang of sadness settle over me. The pain, the solitude and desperation he must have felt, kept in that house… 

I was soon assured by Harry that he had not always been alone—in fact, there were four of them in all, known to prowl the woods around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade at night on the full moon. 

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," Ron recited, already turning to head back towards the main town. 

My eyes widened. The names from Lupin's parchment last night. But I kept silent, not wanting to discuss something he might have wanted to keep personal. 

"Hey, we better go if we wanna go to the Harvest Party," Ron spoke again, impatiently. He nodded towards a congregating crowd surging towards a huge outdoor area, covered in glittering stars and what looked like…fairies. 

"Yea, it's almost time," Harry agreed, looking up to see the sun beginning to dip below the trees in the distance. 

"Come on," Hermione led the way as we all shuffled in with the crowd, as the pulsing beat of music broke through the air. I felt my mind clear and my face grin instantly. I had been denied my CDs since arriving at Hogwarts (due to some wizard/muggle distortion thing) so hearing music at long last had a profound effect on me. 

"This is gonna be so great!" Ron made a beeline for the buffet tables set out at the edges of the cleared area. Hundreds of people, some I recognized as faces in the halls, some I had never seen before, all shuffled about, talking, eating, and dancing half-heartedly to the music. After shoving a dounut into my mouth, I was apporched by George and Fred, Ron's older brother's I had meet with again at Zonko's. 

"Wanna dance?" Fred asked, a grin spreading across his face. 

I covered my mouth with my hand to keep any donut projectiles from flying from my mouth and answered. "Actually, I don't really know how to dan-"

I was dragged, by both of them, into the middle of the clearing before I even had a chance to refuse. I stood there uncomfortably as people began turning to watch them, doing something (though I seriously doubt it was any form of dancing) in front of me. George grabbed my arm and started shaking me. "Dance-dance-dance-dance!" he chanted, doing a dos-I-do kinda number. 

"NO, I don't know how-" 

But I was soon spinning around, forgetting how ridiculous I looked for a moment as I was caught up in their lively, energetic spirits. When the song had ended, we all three fell to the grass, out of breath, but grinning. Ron came bounding over, shaking his head. 

"You guys looked so stupid." He told us. 

"At least we're having fun," Fred panted. 

"I am too!" Ron pouted. 

The conversation ended with Ron bustin' a move on the next song, soon followed by Harry and Hermione, both of whom looked extrememly uncomfortable and out-of-place. I danced, along with more and more people, but soon ducked out to get a drink. 

As I watched the crowds jumping and dancing, I felt a sudden, depressing wave of home-sickness. It hit me in the stomach, making me almost cry at how painful the thought of school dances years ago were. Not for the first time since I had left, I wondered about my friends from back home. Did they miss me as much as I missed them? Were they having a good year in school? I wanted to send them a letter, but I wouldn't be able to get one back—Hogwarts was under an enchantment leaving it unadressable on a standard envelope. 

"You ok?" Harry came stumbling over, sweaty-faced and smiling. He gulped down a soda in two drinks and wiped a hand across his face. 

"Yea. Just takin' a rest." I nodded, spinning my cup between my hands. 

"Having fun?" 

"Yea," I smiled. "This is pretty cool. It's nice to hear music again." 

He set his cup down. "Come on, this song's awesome—you have to dance." 

"Oh, go ahead, I'm just gonna-" 

"Casey." He looked down at me over the rim of his glasses. I blinked back at him. Then, without a word, he lifted my cup from my hands, set it next to his, and wrapped his fingers around mine. Without warning, he jerked me back into the thong of people, towards Ron and Hermione. Hermione looked at our hands with a small glare, but welcomed us with big smiles. I soon forgot the loneliness I had been feeling and got into the groove of things. 

The night wore on and on, the moon (barely visible through the cloudy sky now) rose high above our heads, marking the time we were to leave. The last song began playing and, as fate would have it, the musicians had decided to take a break from the fast-paced rockin' they had stuck to the whole night, and played a slow song instead. Everyone stopped and looked around uncomfortable, trying to find partners without actually asking. Hermione made a move towards Harry, but Ron intercepted and asked her to dance before she got to him. She nodded stiffly, watching as Harry stepped closer to me without saying anything, and put her arms around Ron's neck. I did likewise to Harry, although I'd have rather been dancing like crazy tribal war gods. Slow dancing made me think of Professor Lupin. I wondered what he was doing. Then I blushed, feeling guilty for thinking about him, and concentrated on Harry instead. 

"Today was fun.." Harry decided, a faint smile on his lips. 

"Yea." I couldn't look at his eyes. They were too powerful. 

We danced on in silence, but it was a comfortable one. I braved a look at his face from time to time, but had to look away every time his eyes would meet mine. 

"I was thinking about last night," he started saying. 

"Yea?" 

"I was thinking… Well…" he blushed, ducking his head. I felt his fingers tighten around my waist nervously. 

"I like talking to you," He finally got out. 

"I like talking to you, too," I said back, almost automatically. 

"And I like… well… I think you're pretty. I like your hair." 

I lowered my face until I could see the tops of my All Stars. "Thank you." My eyes raised up enough to meet his green ones for a brief second. 

"So I was-" 

He never got a chance to finish his sentence, because the sky took that moment to open up and pour down. In seconds we were soaked. Harry and I dropped our hands and stood, not sure what to do. All around us, people were screaming and yelling as they tried to run for cover. But I didn't hear any of it, because Harry had suddenly taken another step towards me, eyes beseeching mine, searching for something in them. I could only stare back, heart pounding as his face inched closer and closer. 

His lips brushed mine softly, and for a moment I seemed to have lost all coherent speech capabilities. His hand was resting on my arm as he pulled back, studying my face for a reaction. It took a long time for one to appear. 

When it did, it was only a second before I had acted on it. I took a step backwards, blinking rain from my eyes, and stared at him. 

"Casey, I'm sorry—that was really unappropriate for me-" he held a hand up, fingers outstretched. "Come on, let's get going before we both get sick." 

But I had already turned and was heading towards the waiting train, not sure of what to say to him. My steps were slow and stumbling, my mind reeling with what had just happened. 

"Hurry up!" Ron shouted at me, but his voice was distant, far-away, and unclear. Hermione ran past me, shrieking about her hair, and I soon saw Harry, giving me a hurt look before walking past me into the train. By the time I had boarded, hair plastered to my skull, I had convinced myself it had never even happened. I curled into the window seat of an empty compartment, eyes turned to the huge castle on the hill we were speeding towards. My first trip to Hogsmeade had not gone as I had expected, something I was still trying to decide about when I slowly climbed the stairs, well behind everyone else. Hand on the banister, clothes and hair dripping wet, it was ineveitable I would run into Professor Lupin. 

"Casey—hey! How was it?" He asked, a smile accompyianing his greeting, a stack of folders in his hand. I looked down at him (he was in the hall as I was climbing the stairs) , our eyes meeting. I could imagine him understanding every thought going through my head as I blinked, feeling that familiar stir of tears in the back of my throat. Before I got a chance to cry, I turned my head and slowly walked the rest of the way up the stairs. 

He didn't follow me. 

Chapter Fourteen: The Secrets Garden

Breakfast the next morning was a tense, uncomfortable one. Harry, still looking rejected, ate in stiff silence. I tried to talk to Ron and Hermione a few times, but each time I started, they would look over at Harry, then at each other. Obviously they knew what had happened. 

So I turned to Neville Longbottom, a bumbling sort of boy who usually sat in silence at the end of the table. He wasn't so bad, either. Really sincere and sweet. And at least he talked. 

Before the mass headed out for a relaxing weekend off, Dumbledore stood to address us all. 

"I'd just like to announce a few things," he called out, everyone's voices automatically quieting in respect to the headmaster. "Firstly, Professor Snape would like to extend an invitation to anyone seeking extra points to report to his classroom after breakfast-" 

I wasn't sure, but I could almost swear Dumbledore's smiling eyes flicked to me for an instant as he said that.

"Also, Hagrid wanted to let everyone know he has a baby unicorn out in the gardens—anyone interested in seeing her may do so before he releases her back into the forest." 

There was a murmur of excitement, mostly from the girls, at that prospect. But Hermione, always being different and ostebsible, was busily extolling the pluses of helping Snape out in the dungeon. 

"Extra points, Harry! For Gryffindor! We could get a head on Slytherin early this year!" 

"He'll probably take some away if I show up," he answered gloomily. His breakfast sat, barely touched, on his plate before disappearing to the kitchens below. 

"Well I'm going. Are you?" She gave Ron a look that answered her own question. He shrugged miserably, already standing to follow her. 

"See you later…with any luck," he mumbled. I was left to look at Harry's profile as the rest of the students filed out on their way to whatever they were doing. 

"Harry, I'm sorry for last night-" I started tentively. 

"Just forget it ever happened," he answered stiffly, abruptly standing. "No big deal." 

"It was a big deal," I said softly. "I just didn't know how to react to it." 

He shot me a quick look. "Yea, well, your reaction was fine. I should have expected it. I have a lot of homework to do now." 

"Wait a minute… what do y'mean, 'I should have expected it'?" I asked suspiciously. 

"Just forget it." He shook his head, shoved his chair under the table, and hurried from the Hall. I was left, staring at his empty seat, feeling like the lowest form of pond scum in the world. My eyes lifted upwards, meeting Professor Lupin's. It startled me to see him watching me from the table at the head of the hall, and I quickly stood up and left before he could have a chance to say anything to me. 

But once I had returned to my room, I pulled his book from under my bed and opened the cover to re-read his message to me. At least I still had one supporter. 

I wandered downstairs a little while later, to see what is was that Snape wanted help with. Turns out it was filing. I saw about half a dozen, miserable looking students, all seated at desks, sorting and stacking through papers. I hurried back towards the hall before he could have a chance to see me and order me to work, too. 

After reaching the Great Hall, I suddenly realized—I had never really explored around Hogwarts. I mean, I had been to the classes, gotten lost a few times, and been outside four times for Herbology… But never outside of that.

With newfound determination and a mission, I hurriedly got my Parch-Pak and quills into my bag and headed for the grounds. The rain from last night had cleared up, leavinga bright, yet mild, day ahead. Already feeling ten million times lighter from being outside, I surveyed my options. The Forbidden Forest which was, ironically enough, forbidden. The huge and smelly lake. A small garden-type area with a maze of bushes. And a huge expanse of fields, filled with flowers (magic ones, I suspected). I chose the maze and sauntered over, not bothering to hurry. I had no reason to. 

I found the perfect spot a moment later. I settled down, cracking open the Parch-Pak plastic, and my notebook to compare potential drawings. As fate would have it, I opened to the page of Lupin's profile, his eyes narrowed slightly in that endearing look of concentration he often got. I felt a soft smile spread over my face as I gently touched the paper, wishing, not for the first time, that I could move the brown hair from his eyes. 

"Whatcha doing?" 

I jumped nearly ten feet in the air, instinctively covering my notebook. "For the love of God, doesn't anyone come up from the front!?" 

"Sorry." He lifted his eyebrows in an apologetic gesture, hands shoved deep in his pockets. 

"It's ok." I closed my notebook, trying to block his eyes from seeing the incriminating drawings. "What are you doing?" 

He grinned. "Finding innocent people to scare!" 

I joined in on his laughter, not sure if he was joking or not. "Ah. I see." 

"Naw. Just taking advantage of this gorgeous weather." He noticed my notebook. "Were you busy?" 

"Wha-? Oh, no," I shrugged, dismissing the paper with a wave of my hand. "Just passing the time." 

He leaned back on the balls of his feet, hands shoved into his pockets. Sundays were days no one had to wear the hideously suffocating robes, and he was sporting a blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It took all my will power not to confess my love for him right then. 

"Care to join me for a walk?" He finally asked, tilting his head in invitation. 

"Of course." I smiled, shoving my things back into my bag. I was starting to sling it over my shoulder, but he grabbed it from me. 

"Here---let me grab that for you-" 

"Thank you," I managed in surprise. We started walking. 

"So, eh, what was last night all about?" he asked me, breaking the sunlit silence between us. 

I forced a laugh. "Nothing." 

"It couldn't have been nothing." He shot me a raised eyebrow look. "You looked like you were going to cry." 

I blushed. "I look like that a lot." 

"Better than me… I always look like I'm about to shove off." He laughed, shaking his head. "People always tell me I'm too serious. But I can't help it. But really… what happened to make you upset?" 

"Just….stuff," I mumbled evasively. "Had a bad day." 

"From the looks of it, you weren't the only one." 

I stared at him, wondering how he always seemed to know things about me. 

"Young Mr. Potter didn't look too happy this morning, either." He elaborated, glancing over at me. 

"We were at that dance last night," I began, not sure what was making me spill my soul to the man next to me. "And there was this stupid slow song… and then it rained… and then Harry kissed me." 

I finished so abruptly, he took a moment to respond. 

"He kissed you?" he finally repeated. 

"Yea." I broke into a nervous smile. "Just outta nowhere. BAM! Kissed me." 

"I don't see how that could be so horrible…" he said slowly, and I felt a blush creep into my cheeks at the way his eyes shot towards me while he spoke. 

"Yea, but then I walked away." 

"Ah. Yes. I can see how that might…upset someone." He nodded, understanding. 

"I didn't mean to hurt his feelings. I had no idea what I was doing!" I rushed on, quick to defend myself. "I mean, how often do you get kissed by people you barely know, right out of the blue!?" 

He lowered his head. "I can honestly say it's never happened to me." 

I instantly regretted my words. A pang of something unnameable swept over me, and I stopped walking, staring at him. "I'm sorry Professor Lupin-" 

He waved away my words. "Don't talk about me… Tell me what happened with you?" 

I lowered my eyes miserably. I felt so horrible for bringing up what appeared to be a touchy subject. "I walked away because I don't know how to react to that. It wasn't because I wanted to hurt his feelings." 

"Did you tell him that?" 

"Yea, at breakfast. You saw what happened." 

"Well… Did you want to kiss him? I mean, now, thinking back on it. Would you have?" 

I thought about it. "I don't know," I answered truthfully. "I mean, I would have said something at least. But I don't think I would have kissed him. I can't kiss people unless I truly have feelings for them. And I don't know Harry well enough yet to determine that." 

"You seem to have it all worked out." He smiled, kicking the grass as we walked. 

"I learned from experience." 

He said nothing, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Obviously something important, cause he was getting that look again. 

"What do you think I should have done?" I finally asked, trying to start the conversation up again. 

"I don't know, Casey." He sighed. "I'm not the best one for love advice." 

"But you're the only one I can trust with anything," I muttered, pushing my bangs back with the palm of my hand. His eyes met mine. 

"I'm glad I can help." 

I blushed, smiling, and looked away. He bumped his shoulder into my arm, returning my smile with his own warm one. 

We had stopped walking, and I finally noticed our surroundings. What looked to be the center of the maze, with vines, bright flowers, and stone benches scattered around. It was incredible. And, despite his off-limits seniority, I couldn't imagine being with anyone better. 

"This is beautiful," I murmured, turning in a circle to get the full effect. I reached out my hand. "Could I have my sketchpad?" 

Lupin, who's face mirrored my thoughts, handed over the book bag, watching me dig through its contents with a bemused expression. "Am I going to get to see the _Artiste_ in action?"

"Sorry… I can't help it…" I shrugged apologetically, scanning the area for the best place to sit. Once found, I sank to the grass. Lupin, without a moment's hesitation or thought for grass stains, followed me, stretching his long legs out and resting on the palms of his hands. I bent my head in concentration, quill racing across the page as I tried to capture as much as I could in the tiny paper. It was, up to that moment, the most incredible memory I had at Hogwarts. The sun beating down softly, illuminating the leaves and the sparkling stones; butterflies flying lazily about from flower to flower; Lupin, now with his hands wrapped around his knees as he looked from my drawing to my face, then to the garden. When I had finished, he reached for the paper. 

"Casey, this is wonderful," he said, making me blush. 

"Thank you." 

"But you forgot something." 

I looked at the picture in confusion, trying to see what he meant. "I don't know what you mean-" I began, but he was already on his feet, walking towards the flowers growing near the wall. I watched in interest as he carefully pulled a bright white lily from the stem and returned. 

"You forgot the dreamy-eyed maiden," he smiled softly, handing me the flower. I took it with a pounding heart, barely registering his movement as he picked up my fallen quill pen. And then, taking a few steps back, he started sketching something else onto my paper, hair falling unnoticed in his eyes as he studied me. I knew my face was a bright red, but I could do nothing but stare at him. He was done in minutes, a satisfied look on his face as he handed the Parch-Pak back to me. 

"There." He said, flicking his bangs from his eyes. "Now it's perfect." 

I looked down at the form he had drawn in. It was me. Me with a flower clasped between my hands. I looked up at him, not sure how to react to the drawing. His pleased expression slowly faded into one of embarrassment.

"You don't like it---I'm sorry… I didn't mean to ruin your drawing-" 

"I like it." I managed to whisper, cutting him off mid-apology. "I didn't know you were an artist." Even as I said it, I realized how stupid I had been. I met him in Painted Runes. He had art books in his office. 

"It's one of the only things I've ever been good at," he said softly. He took his seat next to me again, staring off into the horizon. 

"You're good at teaching." I reminded him. 

"I try." We sat in a long silence. He broke it first. "Hey, d'ya mind if I keep that drawing?" 

I remembered the drawing clasped tightly in my hands. I handed it over. "Sure." 

"Thank you." He mumbled, casting a quick look once more before setting it next to him. 

I could only nod. 

"Hey, Professor Lupin-" I started to ask. 

"Please. Remus." He sighed. "Remie, RJ, Reeje… anything but Professor Lupin." 

"I thought you liked being a teacher," I said, puzzled at his informalities. 

"To an extent." He stared up at the sky. "But between two friends, I see no reason for the title." 

"Alright." I wrinkled my nose and giggled. "Remus. I like that name." 

"I'm glad someone does." He pulled at the grass. "What were you going to ask me?" 

"I was going to ask you why you go so far out of your way to be nice to me." I found new interest in my thumbs. "I mean… most people here could care less about the new face. That American. That annoying presence I have to deal with daily. But you… You always seem to have a smile ready for me. And something nice to say. Why?" 

His eyes softened at my semi-bitter question. "Casey, I can't explain others' actions, but I can tell you I go out of my way for you because I find it a rewarding and worthwhile cause. My one goal is to see you smile," He said dramatically, picking up my flower and twisting the stem idly. 

"I don't think I've ever said thank you for it." I leaned back, hands behind my head, as I gazed at the passing clouds. "So thank you." 

He leaned over me, eyes intently focused on mine. "You're welcome." His fingers deftly twisted the flower into the hair above my ear, and laid his head down perpendicular to mine. "You're welcome ten thousand times over." 

A wave of some emotion swept over me. Something inside of me wanted to hear him say things like that to me more and more. And another, smaller part, was screaming at my heart of his over-friendliness and his strictly-professional relationship to me. The fact that he and I both so blatantly ignored it was a sure sign of some undeniable shared attraction… But it scared me as it excited me. I was still a child… He was twice my age. Yet I couldn't deny how much I was beginning to care about him. And from the way he kept gazing over at me, the feelings were mutual. Or maybe it was the over-active imagination of a teenager, with a dash of unrealistic hope for excitement. Or maybe-and this is the thought that really frightened me-he was nice to me for a reason. My mother had told me once how I should never go for an older man. How they liked their women young. When they were gullible and naive. 

Turning my head to see his chiseled profile, I couldn't even begin to believe someone like Remus could ever possibly have thoughts of that nature. He was too… Professor Lupin. But still…

My fingers softly touched the petals of the lily entwined in my hair, and my doubts began to resurface. "I have to go." I said suddenly, bolting upright. 

Lupin sat up, confusion etched on his face. "Is something the matter?" 

I was on my feet in seconds. "Prof-Rem-Professor Lupin," I finally settled on a name, "I don't think I should be out here with you. Alone. It's not right." 

His beautiful brown eyes widened at my words. "You don't think that I-?" he didn't finish his sentence. He didn't have to. He climbed unsteadily to his feet. "Casey, listen to me. I see you as a dear, dear friend. An equal. Someone I can actually trust and talk with. That's all." His eyes met mine and impored. "I swear that to you. And if, for any reason, I gave a different impression, I am truly sorry." 

I started to back away. "I'm sorry… I have a lot of stuff to do…" I turned and ran out of the maze, surprisingly without losing my way, and went straight to my room. It was only when I had flung myself down on my bed, crying and miserable, did I remember I had left my bookbag, and my drawings, with him. 

Chapter Fifteen: Wounded Pride and How Professor Reege Apologized

I almost didn't go back for them. I certainly didn't want to. I didn't think I could handle seeing that wounded look in his eyes again—a look so hurt and terrible, yet… it seemed to fit his tired features so well, I could only guess how many times he'd been treated like that before. 

I suppose that was what finally got me moving. Knowing that I had brought him the same pain as the incompetent and ignorant fools who rejected him from their society… It was unbearable. It had been the last thing I'd ever wanted to do. 

So decided, I marched downstairs determinedly. 

"Professor Lupin?" I called out softly, pushing open the already-cracked door. There was no one in his office. I took a step inside hesitantly, not sure if I should stay or not. Then I saw my notebook lying, open, on his desk. My bookbag was propped against the side of the desk. 

I walked over, hurriedly shutting the book, face blazing as I realized he must have seen my drawings of him. What a hypocrite I was… Daydreaming about him but when I had him in reality, I flipped. 

As I started shoving the notebook back into my bookbag, I finally noticed Professor Lupin. He was lying on his stomach on the small bed in the corner, his face turned to watch me. I stopped abruptly, our eyes meeting across the expanse of the room. Neither of us spoke, yet my mind was spinning with words and messages his eyes were flashing at me. I slowly shifted the stap of my bag over my shoulder, not wanting to break that magnetic hold between us. 

"I was wondering how long it'd take you to remember you left your books." He finally said softly, his voice muffled through the pillow. 

"I would've been here sooner… I was sleeping." 

"Me too." 

I stood, mind blank. 

"Casey? Do you really think I'd fall in love with one of my students?" 

It wasn't really a question.

I could only stare at him. He couldn't have said anything worse to make me feel like an idiot child. "What d'you mean?" I tried to keep my voice even, controlled. 

He nodded at my bookbag. "You draw well." 

"You're changing the subject." 

"You don't still think I'm after your body, do you?" there was a faint hint of mockery in his voice. 

"I never thought that in the first place." I said, slightly angered by the way he was speaking to me. "All I meant was that you seem to go out of your way an awful lot for me." 

"I'm sorry I tried to be friendly."

My cheeks blazed. "I'm sorry I let you." Before I could think, I had pulled out the art book. "Here. You can have your book back. _Moony_." 

I stomped out before he had a chance to speak, eyes flashing red fire. Hurt beyond all words, I couldn't even begin to explain the bitter frustrations coursing through my blood. To even think I had wanted to be anywhere near that man… A man I had trusted with my deepest, most frightful secret… And he mocks me. Makes me feel like an idiot child. Like I was some kind of…

Some kind of student of his who had a huge, earth-shattering crush on him. 

I slowed my steps, berating myself for having to think that. It was, in all honesty, the plain and simple truth. But for some reason, up until that moment, I had been able to believe it hadn't mattered. All those times his eyes had been on me during class… Asking me to stay after … Tea… The book… When he had hugged me… 

I shook off the feelings of hopelessness and forced a smile on my face as I crawled into the Common Room. Why let it bother me? It obviously didn't bother him. 

"Hey Case-Come play Wizard Chess with me!" Ron called out, grinning madly while Hermione, who had obviously lost, glowered. 

"Alright—gimme one minute, ok?" I flashed a smile before running upstairs. In the safety of my deserted dormitory, I ripped out the pictures of Lupin from my notebook. If he felt I was a child, then I'd act like one. I balled them up into wads, was about to light them on fire with my wand, but thought again. Maybe I should just hide them for a while. Shrugging, I shoved them under the mattress of my bed and hurried back downstairs, where Ron, then Hermione, promptly beat me at Wizard Chess. 

I avoided Professor Lupin at all costs from then on. I purposely sat in the back of his class, looked at what he was doing instead of him, and hurried out as soon as the bell rang. I wanted no chance to give him a reason to speak to me. By the end of October, I had convinced myself it had all been a silly crush formed by a homesick girl needing a friend to lean on. 

Of course, that never lasted. 

Halloween day, which was a trip into Hogsmeade for us, found me sitting on the curb outside Zonko's joke shop, waiting on Harry and Ron while they bought things to scare Hermione with. Hermione had mysteriously vanished off somewhere, with an evasive, "You'll see" as her parting remarks.

"Hello, Casey." His voice was stiff and formal. I didn't even look up. 

"Hello, Professor Lupin." 

"Who're you waiting for?" He took a seat next to me without asking. 

"Harry and Ron." 

He took a deep breath. "Look, I have something to say, and I want you to listen. Please." 

I managed a nod, wrapping my arms around my knees and hugging them to my chest tightly. 

"I was six years old. Playing outside, around dusk. When the moon rose-- It was a full moon, and I loved to watch it rising, casting everything with it's surreality. My mother called me inside, it was too late to be playing outside. I didn't listen. I found a dog. Near the edge of the yard. Looked mean. But he also looked hungry. I tried to feed him some of the cookies I was eating. But he didn't want the cookies. He wanted me." 

He stopped his story and pulled up his right pant leg, exposing a disfigured scar running jaggedly from his calf to his ankle. 

"Hurt like hell. Still does. Course, after that I pretty much had no one. Mum got scared to death of me. Dad tried to tell me she just needed to get used to it." He forced a laugh. "It took her 17 years to get used to it before she died. And dad, he pretended he didn't have a son anymore. Went distant. Tried to forget I was alive. No one wanted me near them. I couldn't even go to school anymore, too many people complained I was a danger to their children. Their nice, normal children. When I got accepted into Hogwarts, I was finally allowed to start a life where no one knew what I was. I still didn't have friends, right away, at least, but I had security. And comfort. Dumbledore is a great, great man. I'll always believe that. He gave me one ounce of dignity and faith. Made me believe in myself, even a little. But…" he trailed off, sighing. 

"But it's still lonely when you're the only one at the party, huh?" I finished softly. He looked over at me. 

"Yea it is." 

"Maybe you should send out invitations to a few people." 

"I try to—but I always screw up the address." 

"Then you should try to ask a few people to the party in person." 

"I am." He lowered his head. "I'm asking you to come to my party. I don't know what I did or said to make you angry at me, but whatever it was, I'm sure it wasn't intentional. And I want the bright-eyed artist back. I miss having someone to eat cake with." 

My pride, which had been wounded more than anything, refused to accept his gentle apology. "D'you really believe I'd fall in love with one of my teachers?" I asked bitterly. 

He sighed. "Casey, I never meant that the way it had come out. I was just surprised to look at those drawings of yours… and then the way you had been acting…I simply thought I should clear up the doubts-" 

"You cleared them up." I said quickly. 

"I enjoy your company. I do. But I'm 35 years old. I've never even had a steady girlfriend before. Who would want to date a werewolf?" he shook his head. "The whole idea of _me_ falling in love with someone was so ludicrous to me…" 

"Don't you mean the idea of someone falling in love with _you_?" I asked. "Being a werewolf doesn't keep you from human emotions." 

"Yes, I suppose you're right." 

There was a long silence. "Why are you telling me this?" I finally asked. 

"Because I trust you." He put his chin on his knees and stared up towards the abandoned Shrieking Shack. "There's a full moon tomorrow." 

"I know." 

Our conversation was brought to a halt when Ron and Harry sped out through the doors, loaded down with bags and grins. 

"CASEY! Check this out! Wow, this stuff is so cool!" Ron started pouring out the contents of his bag at my feet, sifting through all of them hurriedly. 

Harry hung back slightly. We had made up over the kissing thing, but he still was more reserved around me than he had been. And seeing Professor Lupin, one of our teachers, made him act a bit more mature. 

"Hello, Professor." 

"Hello, Harry. What did you buy?" 

"Just some stuff for tonight." 

"Not planning on sneaking out past lights out, are you?" Lupin asked, a secretive grin on his face. 

"No…" Harry trailed off, trying to look innocent. 

"Don't let Snape get you. Your last year—he's bound and determined to get you expelled." 

"We will." 

Lupin stood up. "I better get back to the school—it's going to be dark soon." 

I watched him standing, feeling sad at how he talked about it so carelessly, yet was more frightened of it than anything in the world. 

"Professor-" I stood up, dusting off my jeans. "If you ever need anyone to talk to…" 

"Thank you, Casey. And the same for you." He gave me a tired smile before disappearing, something I had learned about in school called Apparating. 

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as soon as he had gone. 

"He was just talking to me 'bout some stuff," I shrugged evasively. "So, what did you buy?" 

He gave me an odd look, but obediently began showing me the contents of his bags.


	6. Default Chapter Title

~Hey, thank you to everyone who's been reviewing and saying nice things. Casadea feels all warm and fuzzy. :)   
  
------ note to lone astronomer, Remus's Gurl, and all others: REMUS is MINE! HA! But I'm willing to share... Also, worthy of JK? Whoa---that made my day. Totally. Thanks.   
  
---P.s (sorry for the big ol' intro here...) Yea, Casey is based on me. Red hair, artist.... I have a major crush on my teacher, too... But he's married. Damn. Oh well.   
  
  
Chapter Sixteen: Running Amuck  
Harry had planned on going out past lights out that night. He showed me an invisibility cloak his father had once owned with a devilish grin. "We'll all hang out in the common room until everyone else goes to bed. Then we can sneak out and run amuck!"   
It sounded like a good plan. So we waited. And waited. And waited. Halloween was apparently the night for staying up late. It was nearly one o' clock in the morning before the last straggler had wandered upstairs.   
"What're we going to do?" I asked excitedly as Ron, then Hermione disappeared before my eyes. Harry grinned, helping me under the heavy fabric.   
"We're going to scare Snape." He answered.   
"Wha-how do you propose we do that?"   
"I dunno." He answered honestly. "We'll figure that one out when we get there."   
"Way to plan ahead-I like that," I nodded.   
We all tried to keep quiet and stifle our giggles as we made our way slowly through the halls of Hogwarts. Being out after hours was creepy and eerie. And plenty spooky. Especially when there were ghosts flying around in every which way.   
"Snape's room is the third one on the left," Hermione whispered, as we cautiously made our way down the teacher's corridor. I glanced over at the door that marked Lupin's office/room, and blushed feverently to think of him sleeping. A month of bitter hurt had been erased by that simple conversation that afternoon. Amazing.   
"Well now what do we do?" Hermione asked as we hovered in front of his door.   
Ron grinned wickedly, pulling out his wand. "Watch this-" he began, but he didn't have the chance to impress us. Peeves, the annoying little ghost who had a knack for causing trouble, whizzed by, only low enough to hit us.   
"An invisible brick wall!" he cried out, rubbing his head with a look of surprise on his face. "Potter Farter, where are you!?"   
"He'll wake everyone up!" Hermione cried out in alarm. "We better go!"   
She was right. Snape's door swung open almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for Peeves to call out.   
"What is going on!?"   
Peeves pointed at the spot we had been standing. "I see London, I see France, I see Potter's underpants!"  
Snape's eyes narrowed evilly. "Potter, and whomever you're with, reveal yourselves! This instant!"   
Professor Lupin opened his door, his hair unruly, faint stubble on his cheeks, and his eyes ringed with fatigue. "Severus, what on earth are you carrying on about?"   
Snape glared at Lupin as he railed about Potter and his friends being out under the cloak. Lupin, who had sent a meaningful glance in our general direction, had stepped from his doorway, giving us plenty of space to hurry in.   
"Have you any proof Potter is here, or do you just like to yell at Peeves' troublemaking?" Lupin asked, bemused.   
"He's out here, I know it!" Snape hissed, waving his hands as he tried to connect with something solid.   
"Go to sleep, Severus. Save yourself the embaressment." Lupin quietly returned to his room, shutting the door. The nearly full moon hung high in the sky, giving his room enough of a light for us to see by.  
"Four people this time," Lupin shook his head, a small grin on his face. "Just like when James used it for us."   
"Thank you, Professor Lupin," Hermione was saying gratefully. "We thought we were done for."   
"What were you doing by Severus' door anyway?" he asked us, looking straight at Ron. Ron looked away sheepishly.   
"Just looking for trouble," he answered.   
"Well you found it." He sighed. "Put the cloak back on and get to sleep. There'll be other nights to be daring."   
"Thank you, again, Professor Lupin," Hermione repeated, already donning the invisibility cloak again.   
"Happy Halloween, Hermione," he answered back, sitting down heavily at his desk. It was then I noticed his bed was still made, despite the hour.   
"Professor? Are you alright?" I asked, forsaking the cloth for a moment. He turned his head away and put a hand to his forehead.   
"I'm fine, Casey, thank you."   
He made a move to cover something with his arm, and with a start, I realized it was the drawing from the garden. Colors had been added into some places already, and I was soon led to notice the scattered paints strewn across his desk, the brushes and water near the edge of it.   
'Hey, what're you painting?" Harry asked curiously, coming over to see.   
He stood up quickly, blocking it from view. I stared up at him. He avoided my eyes. "No matter, Harry. I advise the four of you to hurry quickly before Snape becomes unsettled and tries to uncover a culprit again."   
I obediently covered myself with the cloak, giving him one last, thoughtful (and swoony) look at his gorgeous self before following my partner's in crime out the door and back into the inky black halls of Hogwarts. Once home free in the Common Room, Hermione made a hasty (and humble) retreat to her room.   
"Coming, Casey?"   
'IN a sec," I called back absently, staring into the dying embers of the fire. Ron soon went up, leaving me and Harry alone.   
"You've been acting strange lately," he told me, joining me on the couch.   
"No I haven't."  
"Yes you have."   
"I don't know why I would be."   
"What's going on with you and Lupin?"   
I kept my eyes trained on the fireplace. "What makes you think there is something?"   
"Come off it, Casey. I can see it plain as anything, whenever he's around. Which seems to be more and more... And not for the sake of giving you study advice, I'm sure."  
"I just talk to him sometimes. About stuff. That's all."   
"What kind of stuff?"   
"Stuff." I said pointedly. He leaned back in the couch.   
"You have me to talk to, you know."   
"I know. And I appreciate it. But sometimes it's nice to have... someone older to trust. Makes life a little more secure."   
"What, in case the boogie man comes out at night? Having an adult around will scare him off?"   
"Something like that."   
We sat in silence. I could feel myself being lulled to sleep.   
"Hey Harry?" I asked suddenly, my head slowly and inevitably lowering and lowering on the couch..   
"Yea?"   
"D'you think Professor Lupin has any family left?"   
"Everyone has some family."   
"I don't."  
"Sure you do-the Malfoys. Just like I have the Dursleys."   
"They don't count. Family isn't a name. Family is a feeling." My eyelids sank lower. "Do you think Lupin has any family?"   
"I don't know, Casey."   
"Hey, Harry?"   
"Yes, Casey?"   
"Happy Halloween."   
"Yea. Happy Halloween."   
I saw his face smiling down at me warmly before I slipped into a blissfully dreamless sleep.   
  
  
Chapter Sixteen: I Worry About You, Reejie... Sometimes I Worry A Lot  
[sorry-inside joke...]  
The next morning, Sunday, I woke up in my bed. Positive Harry had broken school rules and brought me upstairs, I hurried from bed to thank him.   
When I got downstairs to the Great Hall, however, he was no where in sight. Hermione and Ron were both seated already, eating heartily.   
"Where's Harry?" I asked, looking around as if he was hiding at another table.   
"He said he had something important to do." Ron said through a mouthful of eggs. "Said he'd be back soon."   
I took a seat, mind racing with ideas. But when I looked to the teacher's table and saw Professor Lupin missing, I understood perfectly.   
"I'll be back." I said quickly, hurrying up the stairs to find Lupin before Harry did. Not that I thought Harry would do anything stupid or jealous-simply because I didn't want Harry to know what I talked about to Lupin.   
When I reached the door to Lupin's office, I slowed, gasping for breath. Knocking softly, I cracked open the door.   
"Harry? Professor Lupin?"   
I found one of them. Lupin was lying on his bed, hand over his eyes, shoes still on. I quickly turned to go.   
"What do you need, Casey?"   
I blushed furiously, turning back to look at him, his eyes still covered. I suddenly felt like an idiot for even thinking Harry would come to talk to Professor Lupin.  
"N-nothing," I stammered. "I, erm... You weren't at breakfast..."   
"I'll warrant I wasn't the only one you noticed missing?"   
I marveled at how he always knew what I was thinking. "Well now that you mention it-"   
"He wants to know why you turn to me over him." He forced a laugh. "He seems to feel there's something more than a guiding teacher at work here."   
I stared. "What did you tell him?"   
"I simply told him what I thought." He uncovered his eyes and turned his head to me. "That perhaps you weren't ready to put your faith in him at the risk of losing his friendship."   
"You didn't tell him what I've done, did you-?"   
"You've done nothing, Casey, you have to understand that." He murmured softly. "I only told him you believe to be at a fault that might put a strain on your friendship." He saw my anxious eyes. "I said nothing in detail, Casey---that is for you to tell him, not me. When the time is right."   
I closed my eyes briefly. "I'm sorry to be such a bother to you."   
"And I'm sorry I can't help you more." The hand had covered those bewitching eyes again. "For what it's worth, Casey, he seemed deeply sincere about his desire to comfort you. Did you ever think about letting him?"   
I had, but how could I tell Professor Lupin that? How could I profess to thinking about Harry, while dreaming about him?  
"I should probably go now," I backed towards the door. "I'm sorry to keep bursting in on you like this-you look like you want some rest."   
"How can I possibly rest now?" he whispered softly, almost inaudibly. My heart ached for the man. Within moments, I was by his side.   
I stood over him, unable to tear my hand back before it touched his arm softly. "Please try."   
His hand lowered, revealing deep hollows beneath his eyes. The whites of them were ringed with red. "Casey-"   
"I already know what you're going to say," I sighed, taking my hand back. "And I know why you're going to say it, too... But I do worry about you. And I will as long as I know you-nothing you tell me to do, or not to do, will ever change that."  
He stared at me, looking slightly taken aback by my passioned words.   
"Actually, I was just going to say your hair looks nice today."   
I couldn't do anything but stare at him, feeling like an idiot. "Oh. Thank you."  
He broke into a soft smile, gently touching my arm. "Don't be so serious all the time, Casey-laugh once in awhile."   
"Sure. I will." My arm began to tingle where his fingers touched it.   
"And," he went on, "at the risk of fulfilling your predictions, I have to say it: There's no need to worry about me. I've been through it all before. It's nothing I can't handle. You should go and find Harry instead of wasting your time worrying. He needs you to find him."   
I tried to interpret the expression written in those eyes. But he had them well guarded. "Would you like some company for a while?" I asked hopefully, trying to think of any reason to keep me within such close proximity to that unshaven, unruly god before me.   
His eyes moved away. "I don't think that's wise, Casey. I cannot guarantee your safety."   
"Oh." I said, disappointed. I didn't even try to hide it. "Then I'll see you on Monday?"   
"Of course. Tuesday at the latest."   
I pulled my hand back before it could touch his arm again. "Goodbye, Professor Lupin."   
"Please call me Remus." He whispered.   
"Alright... Goodbye, Remus."   
I stepped backwards until I was out of his office, shutting the door softly. Then, turning to return to my room, I ran into Snape.   
"American! What are you doing up here!?" He frowned.   
"I, uh, had to ask a question about some homework..." I forced a smile. "Heh. Uh, I better be going now..."  
"Wait." His voice was full of malicious evil. I made a face, turning back to face him.   
"Wha-ahht?" I whined.   
"You didn't have any homework in DADA."   
"How would you know?" I asked, but my heart was pounding as I remembered, in all clarity, Remus telling us to have a good weekend and that "there's no homework,".   
"I have my ways." He crossed his arms over his chest and leered down at me from his big nose.   
"Yes, well... See... I had forgotten we didn't have any homework, so I had come to ask about it... But Remu-er, Professor Lupin told me we didn't have any, so I guess I'll go now-" I stammered, face beet red.   
"Remus?" A look of triumph passed over his greasy face. "On a first-name basis, are you?"   
"Er....I really have to go," I tried to look innocent, then hurried away, cursing myself for slipping. Rounding the corner, I stood against the wall, trying to peer around to see Snape. He seemed to be debating with himself, that grin I hated so much on his face, before knocking on Remus' door, then entering.   
I had to literally force myself to go back to the tower, even though every instinct (and curious part of me) wanted me to try to hear what was being said behind that door. But no, I forced myself away, in hopes of finding Harry.   



	7. Default Chapter Title

As always, thank you for the support. Its much appreciated. And I apologize—this thing looks like it's gonna drag itself out for a very long time… *grin* Ah well. And, as per the usual disclaimer, JK Rowling is in possession o' all. But Reemie. 

Chapter Eighteen: O Captain, My Captain

"Harry! There you are!" I broke into a jog to catch up with him, on his way out to the Quidditch field. 

"Oh, hey, Casey—what's up?" He asked absently. 

"I think we need to talk." 

He looked up briefly, then kept walking. "What—Lupin too busy?"

I slowed down, hurt. "Harry, please…let me explain that one…" 

"He says you don't trust me. That's pretty much self-explanatory." 

"It's not that I don't trust you," I grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn towards me. "It's just that I don't trust myself. I'm not proud of a few things I've done, Harry, and I…I thought that maybe you'd think I was a bad person if I told you." 

"Casey, I've known you long enough to realize what kind of person you are. And believe me, nothing could change my opinion of you. Ever." 

"Not even if I ran around the school with Snape's underwear on my head, singing the Sorting Hat song?" I asked seriously. Then I made a face as I realized what I had just talked about. 

His mouth twitched, then broke into a grin. 

"Ha-gotcha smiling," I rocked back on my heels, grinning. "Now, honestly—are you really mad at me?" 

"I can't stay mad at you for anything, Casey. You know that." He leaned against his broom stick and smiled.

"And you respect my decision not to talk to you about certain things—at least for now?" 

"Yes. But," he fixed his eyes on me. "Only if you tell me what's really going on with you and Professor Lupin." 

My eyes immediately went skyward. "Harry… Nothing. I promise." 

"Then why can't you look me in the eyes?" his voice sounded controlled and even. I lowered my blue ones to his green. 

"There's nothing going on." I forced myself to say. 

"Maybe not for you." He shook his head at my confused expression. "I can give you a tip, Casey—next time you go to talk to him, watch his eyes. They're on you constantly. And he doesn't even bother to hide it." 

"Why do you sound so angry at me?" 

"I'm angry because I'm always here, trying to make you happy, doing everything in my power to keep you happy, and you can't even talk to me. It's slightly unsettling." 

"I've already told you-" 

"I know, I know… 'I'm not ready, Harry. I don't think I trust myself around you.'." he rolled his eyes. "I have it all memorized, Casey." 

"Well, you've never told me about your parents, y'know. Why not?" 

"That's different…everyone knows how they died." 

"Oh, sure. Big difference. How fitting that your standards of open communication don't apply to yourself." 

He looked at me in surprise. "What was I supposed to say? You know how they died." 

"But I never heard it from you." 

"Would it have made a difference?" 

"Yes." 

He sighed in resignation. "Why are you so frustrating, Casey?" 

"Because it's fun to see that vein in your forehead twitch when you're upset." 

"ARGH! I hate you!" 

"No you don't." I batted my eyelashes. "You know you love me." 

"GAH! You're right! I hate it when you're right." 

We both laughed, all hostilities forgotten. He spoke first. 

"So I better get to practice, then." 

"Yea—wouldn't be too good if the captain missed practice." 

He sighed dramatically. "My public needs me." 

"Then go and appease them, O Captain!"  
"Right. Talk to you later?" 

"Of course." I surprised us both with a spontaneous hug. "We have a lot to talk about."


	8. Default Chapter Title

_Righto—longer one. All copyrighted JK. You know the spiel._

Chapter Nineteen: A Legitimate Detention

That night, when Harry had returned from his practice, we sat down and we talked. All night. By the time we had finished, the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, and a few early risers were straggling down the stairs. 

"I think I understand why you were so reluctant to talk about this," Harry said softly as I finished. He had my hands clasped in his, and I could feel him squeezing tightly. 

"I'd appreciate it if it stayed between the two of us," I said. 

"Sure. No problem." He offered me a smile. "Thank you." 

I returned it timidly. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner." 

"And I'm sorry I was so angry with you—all that stuff I said… I should have respected your trust with Lupin more. I guess I was just jealous." 

"Thank you for caring enough to be jealous," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

"Are you two still down here!?" Hermione came bounding down the steps, mouth hanging open at the sight of us, in the same place we had been eight hours earlier. 

"Erm… We…lost track of time?" I tried. 

"Sure. Whatever." She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "You're the ones who're gonna be sorry when you fall asleep in Potions." 

We all laughed, but I stopped abruptly. "Potions!?" I repeated, eyes widening. "Ohmigod—that essay! ARGHHH!" I jumped up from the couch. 

"I take it you didn't do it…" Harry watched me flipping out with a bemused expression on his face. Hermione had crossed her arms over her chest. 

"You had a week, Casey! You have no one to blame but yourself!" 

"Thanks, Snape," I muttered sarcastically, already pulling a piece of parchment from someone's deserted bag and finding a half-way usable quill. "What was I supposed to write about!?" 

Harry, grinning, had taken the seat across from me as I hurriedly scribbled about a foot of BS on the last potion we had been studying in class. 

"You mis-spelled "thyme"," Harry said helpfully. 

"Less talking-more working!" I gave him a quick glare before returning my attention to the paper. Unfortunately, as it so often happens, the night without sleep (_was this how Remus felt after a full moon?_ I couldn't help but wonder) wasn't helping my motor skills too greatly. After being told I had mis-spelled "potion" three times, I finally gave up. "Aw, to hell with it. Worst'll happen is I'll get an F. One lousy F. Won't kill me." 

"Said like the true procrastinator," Harry laughed. 

"It's your own fault," Was all Hermione could say. 

"Mgrhhhp," added a sleepy-eyed Ron as he wandered downstairs. 

"Very helpful," I sighed. "The whole lot of you." 

As I had predicted, an uncompleted essay didn't kill me. It did earn me a ten-minute tirade from Snape about how irresponsible I was, twenty points from Gryffindor, and another essay due to him on Wednesday. But all that I could handle. No big deal. 

What did kill me, however, was when I fell asleep while supposedly taking notes on a highly combustible potion used for healing burn wounds. What made it worse was the fact that I had been measuring out the amount of apple juice to add, and ending up face first in the ashes. And, because of the streak of evil inside all Potion teachers, Snape forbade anyone to wake me up. Not even when class had ended and they were all leaving. (I got this all from Harry later on) Apparently, I slept through the next class, and when I finally woke up, it was to the big-eyed looks of very impressionable first-years. 

"And this, students, is how the Creveageon Potion would result," Snape was sneering as I slowly blinked my eyes open. 

"Is she alive?" one student asked, looking horrified at the bleared expression on my face. 

"Yes, I'm alive-" I croaked, pulling myself up. "I think." 

As I stood, they all took a giant step back, as if I was dangerous. Snape stood, at the back of the class, looking very smug. Our eyes met and I realized, with a sinking sensation, he had finally gotten his chance to give me a-

"Detention, American. And clean up this mess," he whirled on his heel, cloaks swirling like a cape, and told the first-years to take a seat. I was left to stare at the mess of ingredients (mixed with a healthy dose of drool, now) that was smeared on the table top. With a resigned sigh of defeat, (and another sinking feeling as I saw what time it was and the classes I had missed) I went about cleaning my make-shift bed. 

As I worked, I half-listened to Snape, barking orders to some, berating others, and generally making the whole lot of them cry. The class had ended before I had finished, which left me even more time to hear his speech on what a horrible example I was for the younger students, etc. etc., etc. It was all I could do not to punch the guy. 

"Nine o' clock sharp, American." He called as I stalked out of the room. "And don't think your precious Remus can get you out of this one." 

I shot him a look of poison before slamming the door shut behind me. "What a punk," I muttered crossly, heading for lunch. "Stupid, smelly, irksome little punk." 

"Hello, Casey---what in the world!?" 

I stopped walking and gave Professor Dumbledore a smile. "Heya, Professor. What's up?" 

"Casey, I don't mean to be rude, but…" his light blue eyes met my darker ones with a quizzical look. "What happened to you?" 

For a record-breaking third time that day, I felt my insides sink. "So I guess sleeping in potion ingredients tend to leave one looking slightly…unkempt," I guessed, hand reaching out to feel something suspiciously like dried leaves in my hair. I made a face. 

"I think I'll have to agree with you," he laughed. "Fell asleep, did you?" 

"Sure did." I sighed. "And I was doing so well…"

"Well you know, it's quite fortunate I found you… I have a letter for you." He held out a long white envelope with my name scrawled on the front. 

"Oh? Who's it from?" I asked, turning it over to look for an address. 

He gave me an innocent look and shrugged. "Wouldn't have the slightest," he smiled. 

"I see…" I gave him a raised eyebrow look.

"Don't give me that look!" he chuckled. "I get it too much already." 

I shook my head, grinning. "You're a true individual, y'know that?" 

"Much appreciated," he gave me a deep bow. "Now, I'll have to say my adieus… And I propose you, erm… You might want to go wash up a bit." 

"Duly noted, professor, thank you." I tapped the letter against my palm. "And thanks for the letter." 

"Don't thank me just yet," he warned, eyes twinkling. "You might not agree with its contents." 

I opened to my mouth to question him further, but closed it with a shrug. "Fine. I'll read it before making any assumptions." 

"Great idea. Have a good day, Casey." 

"Yea, you too," I echoed, returning to my trek. I went to the tower instead, however, and tried to clean myself up. 

"Oh Snape, you're an ape," I sang softly, peering at my face in the mirror above the sink. I splashed some water on it to try to clear up the streaks of grey on my cheeks. "A big fat smelly ape, oh yes you are, professor Snape." 

From my view in the mirror, I could see the white envelope resting on the small window ledge behind me. I stared at its reflection thoughtfully, trying to think of someone who'd write me a letter and have Professor Dumbledore deliver it. 

"Heh heh, Dumbledore," I grinned. "Michael Patrick Dumble-Smith. Heh heh." {a/n: ignore that bit}

I turned and picked up the envelope, already opening it as my eyes tried to recognize the handwriting. A long piece of parchment was inside, and it was the name at the top that caught my interest the most: 

_Melody-_

_I realize this is very suspicious, me writing to you. But I had to. You're in danger. Don't ask me why, or how, because all I can tell you is that I know. For some reason, I just know. I'm writing this in a hurry because it'll be night soon, and then it might be too late. Don't question my warning—just heed it. Please. Be careful._

_Remus_

_ _

Melody? In danger? What!? 

Needless to say, I was confused. Melody, as far as I could remember, was the girl who Remus and Snape were talking about that one time in my detention—the one with "those eyes." But my name was on the outside of the envelope… Remus knew me well enough to not confuse me with someone else like that. Unless he had already been transforming and his mind had been foggy. But then, why…? 

Biting my lower lip in a rare moment of confused thought, I reread the letter. Melody… Hmmm… 

"Hey, there you are!" 

I jumped nearly ten feet as Hermione burst into the bathroom, looking paternal and ready to preach a new moral lesson. 

"ARGH! That's another one who snuck up behind me!" I cried out angrily, shoving my letter into my bag before she could see it. "It must be some English tradition or something!" 

"Ah huh… Yea, anyways, you missed two classes." 

"Really!?" Today was my day for sarcasm. "I had no idea!" 

"Well you don't have to be so snotty! I copied notes for you!"

I lowered my head in guilt. "Sorry. Just having a bad day." 

"I'll say!" She kept on an endless conversation as she led me back downstairs towards Herbology. I could barely listen. All I could think of was that note in my bag. 

I knew I had to see Remus to ask him what he was talking about. And soon. 


	9. Default Chapter Title

_I am indebted to the Great JK Rowling for these characters. _

_Also, I think I might have to start posting three chapters at a time again—I might be irking a few people with the incessant uploading of this story…_

Chapter Twenty: Snape's Melody

I didn't have any free time that day to get to Remus' room. Discouraged beyond words, I trudged back down to the dungeon to serve my detention with the letter shoved into the back pocket of my jeans. 

"I'm here…. You can start your treacherous evil ways now—" I trailed off, seeing Snape, glaring at me fiercely. "Sorry," I muttered, closing the door. 

"Your attitude fails to amuse me, American." 

"Will you stop with the American already!? God, talk about beating a dead dog with a stick!" 

"Sit down!"

I sat. 

"Now," he began pacing in front of me, hands clasped behind his back. "I have no filing for you… No paperwork… So tonight, we're going to have a talk." 

I rolled my eyes. "Great. Can we talk about the Birds and the Bees, Professor?" 

"I think Professor Lupin would want the honor of discussing _that_ with you," he sneered nastily. I turned a lovely shade of pink. He noticed my discomfort and grinned. "No, American, we're going to have a little conversation about Melody." 

I stared at him. "You know who Melody is?" 

"Of course I do! I'm the one who named her that!" he looked angry at my surprise. 

"Who is she?" I asked eagerly. 

"Don't you know?" 

"Not really. All I know is that she had great eyes." I shrugged. "Other than that, I'm lost." 

"Melody went to school around the same time I did. A few years under me, but still—when someone like her attends Hogwarts, everyone knows it." 

I sat back in my chair, fixing Snape with an intrigued look. He went on. 

"She was easily the brightest girl here—levels ahead of her age group. Performing intricate spells at a seventh-year level during her first year. Amazed everyone. What was even more amazing—she could create her own spells. Set them to music—as a hobby. She easily had the most promising career of anyone from Hogwarts—on the same plateau as Lord Voldemort, even. Only as a fighter against him.When she graduated, it was assumed she'd join the fight against him right away—but she surprised everyone. She fell in love with a common Muggle… And she gave up her powers—powers which may have stopped Voldemort for good—for an ordinary, Muggle Existence." 

"You were in love with her, weren't you!?" I realized, seeing the grim expression on his face. 

"That's nothing to you, American! All I know is she could have had anything in the world, and she chose you." 

I stared at him, not speaking. He saw my look and nodded, a smirk on his face. 

"Understand now, American? Understand why you never knew you were a witch until your parents died? How pathetic was it? The most powerful witch in the Wizarding World, killed by a Muggle-Made car." 

"My mother was the most wonderful person—in any world—no matter what you say." 

"But what does she have to show for her existence!? She could have had fame, glory… How many lives wouldn't have been killed!? Instead, all she left behind was a scrawny red-headed brat with no idea of who her mother truly was." 

I stood up, feeling tears forming. "I knew my mother better than you ever would! And I don't care what you say—she made the right decision! I'm glad I didn't have to grow up here, if it meant knowing people like you! And-" I was red in the face from yelling by now, "I am _not_ scrawny!" 

"_Sit down and shut up_!" He roared, overshadowing me by a good six inches. I sat down, but kept my eyes narrowed on him in silent defiance. "She obviously taught you nothing about respect-"

"I know plenty about respect—for those who deserve it," I growled. 

"You would do well to keep your mouth shut, American." 

"You have no control over me, you prick." 

"I have the power to expel you from this school. Just another wasted witch. Like your mother." 

That got me up again. "Don't you _dare_ tell me my mother's life was wasted! She's the one with a family! With people who loved her! And still do! Who do you have, _Professor_!? Who do you have to care about you!?"

"I know better than to attach myself to another human. Waste of time." 

"That explains why you act as if there's a stick wedged up your butt all the time! Maybe you should try to attach yourself to someone!" 

"I've tried it before, American, and I will never allow myself that weakness again." 

We glared at each other from across the expanse of the desk. Despite his passionate words, I couldn't help my eyes from softening and looking at him with sympathy. 

"But you loved her. Once. Didn't you?" 

"Of course I did," he scowled, turning his head away. "Everyone did. Ask your boyfriend. I'm sure he loved her once, too." 

"What happened?" I asked, ignoring his last comment. 

"That is none of your concern." 

"Then why bring it up? Why now, of all times, do you tell me about my mother? Other than to berate her and tell me I'm worthless?"

"You may have been disconnected from our world for 17 years, American… But you're still your mother's daughter." 

"What does that mean!?" I was beginning to get very frustrated. "And why did Professor Lupin call me Melody today? Why did he tell me to be careful? What aren't you telling me!?" 

"He calls you Melody to keep his mind at ease. No harm in being intoxicated by a dead friend's eyes, as opposed to a very young and very available student." 

I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. Or did I? Something about the idea of Remus, feeling that way over my eyes… 

"Why do I need to be careful?" I asked, trying to avoid thinking of Lupin and his prepossession with my eyes. 

"Professor Lupin isn't the only one who's been watching your every move, American" he said evenly. "You may be a novice with your wand, but the rate at which you absorb your classes—gives a man enough reason to be unsettled." 

"D'you mean…" I trailed off, too bewildered to go on. 

"I would heed his caution, American. Lupin is, after all, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He would know the signs of danger when he saw them." 

I fell back into my seat, feeling drained. What a great day. First I had no sleep. Then I got an F on my essay, slept through three classes, got a detention, and now the Evil Dark Lord was looking for ways to kill me. Wonderful. Spectacular. (But, as I thought wildly, at least my sarcasm hasn't left me!)

"May I please be excused?" I asked, my voice shaky and wavering. 

"According to my watch, you still have thirty minutes to go," Snape instantly reformed to his evil self and smirked. 

"Please, Professor." I tried to look pleading and sweet. 

"Fine. Go." He waved his hand in disgust. "But I'm adding a foot to your essay Wednesday." 

"It's a fair cop," I stood gratefully. "Thank-" 

"Go!" 

I made a face, but hurried from the room before he could change his mind. 

Chapter Twenty-One: Into the Wardrobe

I knew I couldn't go back to the Common Room after that. Which left one other place (well, aside from the Library, but I didn't think it'd be open anyway)

With a steely determination, I knocked on Remus' door. 

"Who is it?" his voice, muffled and raspy, seeped through the wood. 

"Uh… It's, um… It's me, Profe-I mean, Remus." I shifted my weight from one foot to another anxiously. The door swung open, revealing Remus in all his weary glory.

"Don't you ever sleep?" he asked, but he smiled and stepped aside to let me in. 

"I'm sorry, I know I promised to stop busting in on you, but… " I pulled the letter from out of my pocket and held it towards him. "I need to talk to you." 

He stared at the letter, an unreadable expression crossing his face. He shut the door behind him softly and leaned heavily against the door. "My letter. Oh." 

"Yea, oh," I repeated, pulling out the parchment. "I know who Melody is-or was-now. But this danger thing… It's kinda worrisome." 

He stepped closer to me, taking the letter from my hands. "Casey, don't be worried… I just had a bad feeling. But it's gone now." He offered me a smile. "No big deal." 

"You say that to me an awful lot," I raised my eyebrow. 

"Yes, well, you pay me surprise visits a lot." He crumpled the letter. "So we're even." 

"But why did Professor Snape tell me I was being watched?" 

"He's probably trying to scare you." He said. "Would you like some tea?" 

I nodded, watching him prepare two cups. He was so handsome, even like this. "How do you feel?" I asked softly. 

"Surprisingly well," he answered, handing me a cup of boiling tea. (Those big wooden sticks came in handy sometimes) He motioned to his desk. "Please, have a seat." 

"Thank you." I opted for the bed (more for the window view than anything) and crossed my legs under me. 

"How are you?" 

"Other than confused beyond belief, I'm well." 

"Good to hear." 

We sipped in silence, eyes wandering but occasionally meeting over the rims of our cups. Every time it happened, one of us would look away and I would blush bright red. One bad thing about being a pale, freckle-faced redhead—the infinite amount of blushing I went through daily. 

"So… I heard you had an impromptu nap this morning," he said finally, breaking the silence. 

"Oh gosh… Yea." I grimaced. "Not a pleasant morning." 

"Professor Dumbledore told me you had ash and leaves all in your hair. Said you looked really sweet."

I forced a laugh, shrugging nervously. "I wouldn't say sweet—more like scary and freaky." 

"Forgive me if I believe Dumbledore over you," he laughed softly, setting his empty teacup on his desk. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure." 

"May I please see your painting?" 

He found new interest in the ceiling. "Uh, it's not that good…" 

"Please?" 

His eyes met mine and held them for a long moment. "Alright." 

He used his wand to open a heavy trunk set against one side of the wall. I could see dozens of pictures, some painted, others drawn, from around his back, and resisted the urge to ask to see them, also. 

He found the one he wanted and gave it a quick look before handing it over to me. "Like I said, it's not too great," 

I stared at in shocked silence. Not only was the painting beautiful, but he had taken a seat next to me, his arm barely brushing mine as he waited for my opinion. 

"Professor-" I breathed. 

"Remus," he said absently. 

"Remus," I corrected. "Remus, this is… this is beautiful." 

He forced a nervous laugh. "Sorry, Casey—no extra credit for sucking up to the teacher." 

I didn't even smile. "Remus, I'm serious. This is good. Really good." 

"Thank you." 

Once again, our eyes connected and I was left without any coherent thoughts. I felt I could feel what he was thinking, just by looking in his hazel eyes that were open and unguarded for once. From the look on his face, he could sense the words coming from my eyes, too. Slowly, as time seemed to stand still, his hand reached towards me, Remus' eyes unwavering on mine. His hand was a mere inch of two away when a loud pounding broke through the silence.

He withdrew his hand sharply, looking guilty, and I could feel my heart speeding up as I recognized the voice coming from the other side of the door. 

"LUPIN!? I know you're not asleep—I see the light under your door! Let me in!" 

"Just a minute, Severus!" Remus called back, his face seeming to age years. He turned back to me. "Um, this is most inconvenient." 

"What should I do?" I asked frantically. 

"Here…" He opened his wardrobe and shoved hangers to the side. "Just stay in here." 

I silently climbed in and closed my eyes, fearing the worst, as Remus opened the door to let Severus inside. 


	10. Default Chapter Title

# _As promised before, three chapters at a time. I'm sorry for the big jump in the timeline here—I'm trying not to make this an entire saga. Hope you like these. :) –and as always, JK Rowling owns all. _

Ps---sorry it took three days to post this—for some unknown reason, it aborts my uploads and claims its not saved as an HTML file. "But it is, darn computer!!!!!!!! RAORRR!"

# 

# Chapter Twenty-Two: One More Apology

"Severus—what can I do for you?" 

I could see Remus opening the door from the tiny crack between the wardrobe doors. Snape pushed him aside and came stalking into the room, looking around suspiciously. 

"Did you have company? I could have sworn I heard voices…" 

"Just talking to myself." 

Snape turned to glare at him. "I'm not even going to pretend to like you, Lupin. I'm not going to go through all the formalities here—just a simple straight-forward conversation. Think you can manage that?" 

"As long as you can." Remus' voice had an edge to it, and his arms were crossed over his chest. 

"I'm not a fool—I see a lot more than most will give me credit for." 

"I'm not sure I follow." 

I backed up against the wardrobe wall as Snape passed by, his movement sending a soft breeze towards me. Only too late did I remember Lupin's painting, lying forgotten on his bed. 

"I think this," he had picked it up and was smirking at Lupin, "says it all, Professor." 

Remus had paled considerably. But, to his credit, he remained standing tall and proud, exuding that nobility I had been so drawn to the first time I had ever met him. "Do you have something against art, Severus?" 

"Don't insult my intelligence, werewolf! I know damn well it's her—your little protégé. And I know quite a few people who'd be extremely interested in discovering this secret little love affair you're having." 

"I'm sorry I have you so suspicious, Severus," Remus took the painting from him and set it on his desk, smoothing the edges absently. "Next time I'll be sure to paint a brunette." 

"All I want is an admission!" 

"I'm afraid you'll not be getting one from me. I have nothing to admit." 

They stood, eyes flashing, daring the other to go one step further. 

"You mark my words---I'll be watching you so closely, you won't be able to sneeze without me knowing it," Severus finally said, jabbing a finger in Remus' direction. 

"Is your own life so dull that you need to dedicate it to mine?" was the only answer he evoked. 

"You've been able to keep it hidden so far—but sooner or later, you'll fall. And I'll be there to kick dirt on you when you do." 

He stomped from the room, giving the door a resounding slam. Remus' shoulders slumped forward and his face drained of color the second the door had shut, sinking into the desk chair. A hand went up to cover his eyes, and I was almost reluctant to step from the wardrobe and disturb him. 

"Well," he said. 

"And I thought he had it out for me," I joked, laughing nervously. 

He managed a small smile. "Severus has a talent for creating misery for others." 

We both stood in quiet reflection. 

"I better go." I said finally. 

"Yea. Might be a good idea." He lowered his hand and offered me a forced smile. "Sorry if my letter worried you. I just…get feelings sometimes. Usually they're for nothing." 

"And I'm sorry if my visiting hours are slightly inconvenient for you," I returned, halfway to the door. I had my hand on the knob when I heard him half-whispering. 

"Pity," he muttered, his brown head cupped in his palm. "Being accused and not even having any guilt to make it interesting." 

I silently slipped into the hall, shutting the door softly so I wouldn't disturb his thinking process. But I agreed with him. Being accused of something I wasn't guilty of, despite my wish to be. 

_But what happened back there?_ I asked myself, remembering the moment when he had almost broken the teacher/student barrier and touched my face. _That was new_. 

_And wonderful_, another part of me sighed dreamily.

And I, of course, had to agree. 

# Chapter Twenty-Three: Tis the Season to do Shopping 

A silent agreement had been made that night between Professor Lupin and I. I suppose Snape's warning had been a wake up call for the both of us. No matter what the reason behind the action, when a teacher and a student spent more time together than what was deemed necessary, people paid attention. And even though we weren't in the middle of a torrid love affair, like Snape believed, I think we both realized, somewhere deep inside of ourselves, that the possibility was an ever-present issue between us. At least, I did. Professor Lupin had perfected his emotionless, unpenetreable mask so well, I couldn't even see his thoughts in his normally expressive eyes. Which was slightly saddening… No longer would our eyes meet across the classroom and have a conversation without any words—that had been ruled "inappropriate" by the silent agreement and had stopped, although I have to admit that neither one of us was perfect at observing the unspoken rules. There were times when I could feel his eyes on me as I wrote notes down from the board, and more than once he had caught me watching him he wasn't speaking in front of the class. But on the whole, any unscholarly conversations had stopped, much to my dismay. I wouldn't allow myself to pay him any more unexpected visits, not even when he asked me if I'd like a cup of tea with him. And he never sought me out in the gardens anymore, not even after the first snow of the season and the whole school seemed to be outside, participating in a massive snow-ball fight. 

It was that day, the last Saturday of November, when I was approached by Hermione. She was decked out in coordinating mitten/sweater/boot ensemble, and hadn't been actively participating in the snow ball fight for most of the afternoon—simply shouting "Watch it! Here's a big one, Ron!" from the sidelines as she did her homework. 

"Hey, Case—gotta minute?" 

"Sure-" I turned my head, which two sixth year Slytherins took as an opportune moment to hit me in the face with snow. As I wiped the ice from the back of my neck and scowled menacingly at them, I followed Hermione towards the out-of-target area. 

"Um, is there something you'd like to talk about?" she asked, eyebrows knitted together in a worried frown. 

"Is there?" I asked, trying to think of what she might be talking about. 

"You've been acting moody lately. And really quiet. You're grades have been slipping… You don't even make up songs about Snape anymore. You used to love that." 

"Oh." I shrugged. "Just been predisposed. Have a lot on my mind." 

"Like what?" 

"Just stuff." I busied myself with making another snowball. 

"Casey." Her voice was stern, making me look up in surprise. "What is it?" 

"Nothing!" I said defensively. "I'm just… thinking a lot." 

"You can tell me, you know. I won't tell Harry or Ron. Maybe it's about Harry or Ron?" she asked softly, almost motherly, putting her mittened hand on my shoulder. 

"No, it's nothing like that…" I sighed, tossing the snowball from hand to hand. We stood in the snowy silence, the roar from the snowball fight a mere echo in the background. "Last Thursday was Thanksgiving." I said finally. 

Hermione looked confused for a moment, then a realization dawned on her. "Oh my gosh, yea it was! Why didn't you say something!? Dumbledore would've made a special meal for you or something."

My eyes were on the snowball in my hands. "I didn't want any special attention. It's just a silly holiday. Nothing to make a big deal out of." 

"That's it, isn't it? This is the holiday season—you miss your parents, don't you?" 

"I always do." 

Her expression had softened and she gave me a hug. "Oh, Casey, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about how you must be feeling right now." 

"Hey, it's alright," I said, embarrassed by her sudden showering of warmth. "It's just a little homesickness. No big deal." 

"No wonder you've been so preoccupied! I would be, too!" She tsked with her tongue and shook her head. "Well. We'll find a way to make you feel better." 

"That's not necessary—I feel fine," I began, but she was determined. 

"Hey! Next weekend is Hogsmeade! We'll have to do Christmas shopping. How much money d'you have?" 

I thought to the only letter I had received from my estranged relations. It had been a week ago, and all it had contained was a letter with a formal "hope you're well and fine". No money attached. "Not much." I admitted. 

"Well that's ok. I'm sure we can all lend you some until you can pay us back." 

"Wouldn't that be like you buying yourself Christmas presents?" I asked, but she wasn't listening anymore. 

"Oh! And we have to get formal robes for the Holiday dance… That's always fun… And I think my parents'll let me stay over the break, so we'll all be together… We'll make sure you have so much fun, you won't even know you're not at home." 

She was so caught up in making plans and distractions for us, I couldn't help but give a resigned sigh and pretend to be interested. After all, she didn't have to go out of her way like this to make me feel better. It was nice to be cared about like that. 

"Whaddya think about this one?" 

It was the following Saturday, and Hermione was holding a dress up to herself and modeling it for me. 

"It's ok," I said slowly, narrowing my eyes in thought. "Looks kinda… lacey, though." 

"I like it!" she protested, fingering the seemingly infinite number of lace ribbons on the edge. 

I shrugged, turning back to the rack of dresses. "Whatever. It's your dress, not mine." 

"I'm gonna try it on," She grinned, her face lighting up excitedly as she hurried to stand in line behind a dozen other Hogwarts girls who wanted to try on a dress. I rolled my eyes, but smiled at her eagerness. 

"You guys are still in here!?" Ron asked, annoyed, as he and Harry found me. I smiled absently, humming, pulling a long blue dress from the rack and holding it up. 

"Hey, that's nice," Harry interrupted, while Ron carried on about the quirkiness of women and shopping for clothes. They were both bogged down by huge bags, filled, no doubt, with Christmas presents. I myself only had one bag at my feet—dwarfed by their huge ones. But it held everything I would need. 

"You're right, Case—too lacey," Hermione had returned, looking discouraged at the loss of a prospective dress. She hung it on the rack with a sigh and began pawing through the ones across from me. 

"What does it matter!? It's a dress, you'll wear it one time…" Ron complained. 

"We have to look _beautiful_," Hermione explained. 

"Just pick one! I wanna go see Fred and George's stuff over at Zonko's!" 

"Then go, Ron! We're not forcing you to stay!" Hermione huffed, pushing past him. 

He sighed, rolling his eyes at Harry, but remained while we searched and searched. An interesting thing about shopping in Wizard Dress Shops---no two dresses were alike. It was awesome. 

While we looked for the perfect dress, Ron and Harry decided to look, too. 

"Oh, Harry! Does this one make me look fat!?" Ron asked, voice high pitched and screechy. 

"I look like a blimp!" Harry returned melodramatically. "I won't eat another thing for the rest of the month!" 

"Ohhh, Har—that one brings out the green in your eyes." 

"Found it!" I cried triumphantly, interrupting their laughter. I pulled the hanger from the rack and hurried to the dressing room before they could see it. I wanted it to be a surprise—no one at Hogwarts had ever seen me dressed up before.

I tried it on quickly, smiling at my reflection in the mirror, doing a twirl to make the skirt swish. "Why Remus—I'd be positively thrilled to dance with you!" I giggled, then blushed madly as I realized what I was doing. It had been a month since I had allowed myself the girlish fantasy involving my teacher. The sudden outburst made me remember everything I had been trying to ignore, making me realize how much I missed talking to him like a friend.

My grin had faded and I changed back into my clothes without another look in the mirror. I paid for the dress (thanks to the generous contributions of my loving friends), wrapped it in plastic, and held it against myself protectively, not saying another word while Hermione found her own dress and paid for it. 

# Chapter Twenty-Four: Conspiracies and PMS

Christmas was an exciting time of the year, and being in such a beautiful castle made it ten times more wonderful. Everywhere you looked, twenty foot Christmas trees, decked in candles, holly, streamers and sparkling, twinkling ornaments adorned the floor. Starry strands of lights replaced the burning lamps in the hallways. And having the white snow frosting every window, covering every inch of school grounds only added to the magical feeling Christmas evoked in me. 

With the dance drawing near (it was on the last day before the holidays officially began, meaning everyone in school would be attending) people were gossiping non-stop over who was taking who, and what their dresses looked like. Except me. I would always find something I needed to do when the topic turned to the dance, then would hurry to uncover my dress and imagine myself dancing with Remus in it. By this time, our eyes barely even met anymore. I began believing I had imagined the whole thing in his room by then. It was very lonely. 

One night, about the second week in December, I was in the library, studying for finals in Potions. Hermione was across from me, doing extra homework, and for some reason or other, she felt the need to bring up the subject of the dance. 

"Who d'you wanna go with?" she asked conspiratorially, leaning forward. 

"Hey, I'd be happy to just be asked." I answered back. 

"Oh come on, Casey! You have to have someone you'd want to go with!" 

_Yea—I do. Professor Reeje._

"No one in particular." 

"C'mon! Tell me! I'll tell you who I wanna go with!" 

I rolled my eyes. Everyone knew who she wanted to go with. "So I take it Ol' Ron hasn't popped the question yet, eh?" 

"Ron?" she raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What about Ron?" 

"Ron… the guy you've been spending an awful lot of time with lately…?" 

"Oh, gosh! No, I'm just helping him with his Herbology! No, no… You didn't think I want to go with Ron-?" she laughed. "How cute-you did! No, I meant Harry." 

"Harry!?" it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. 

"Yea—promise not to tell, but … I've kinda had a crush on him since first year." 

"Oh really… I'd a never guessed." I laughed nervously. She narrowed her eyes. 

"Why do you sound so…guilty?" 

"Huh!? Guilty? Me? Never!" 

"He asked you, didn't he? Oooh, I knew he would!" 

"Um, no, I don't know what you're talking about." I concentrated on my book. 

"Cas-ey! You _know_ I wanna go with him!" 

"Then go with him. I'm not gonna stop you." 

She slumped down into her chair. "He already asked you!" 

"Does that mean I said yes?" 

"So you said no?" 

"Well…not exactly… I told him I'd have to think it over…" 

"CASEY!" 

"Well how was I supposed to know you wanted to go with him!!?" 

"You could have asked!" 

"I would think you'd have told me!" 

She glared at the table top, arms crossed over her chest angrily. I sighed again. 

"You can still go with him!" 

"Not if you do!" 

"I haven't said yes yet," I reminded her. 

"He won't ask me unless you give him an answer first!" 

"Why don't you ask him?"

"Girls don't ask guys to dances!" she said indignantly. 

"Oh, right. Forgot." I rolled my eyes. "It's against your religion or something." 

"Casey!!" 

"What!? What am I supposed to do about it?" I shook my head. "If you want to go so badly, then _ask _him!" 

She glared at the table top, arms crossed over her chest. "He'll say no. I know he will." 

"That's the spirit!" I cheered. 

She glowered at me. 

"Look," I sighed. "Would you like me to ask him for you? Spare yourself the sheer terror of asking a guy to a dance?"

"He'll say, 'Gee, Herm, don't know… Casey hasn't given me an answer yet… I'll go if she says no, how's that?'." She muttered. 

I lowered my eyes. "I'll say no if you really want me to." 

"You will!?" Her bad mood forgotten instantly, she looked at me hopefully. 

"Yea, sure. I'm sure someone else'll ask me." I shrugged, while my insides dropped. A week until the dance, and I'd only been asked by one guy. And I was going to have to say no to him. Another wasted dress. 

"Oh, thank you Casey! OOOH! I love you!" She squealed excitedly, nearly tipping over her chair to give me a hug. 

"No prob," I forced myself to smile, returning her hug. "I'll talk to him tonight." 

She grinned and returned to her homework. "You are a goddess!" 

"Thanks." 

"And don't worry—I'm sure someone else'll ask you." But it was obvious it wasn't something she was too concerned about. Now that Harry was an option for her, she didn't feel the need to pester me with questions on who my dream date would be. 

"I'm kinda tired—I'll see you later," I mumbled, grabbing my books and hurrying out of the library. She barely glanced up, a grin still lit across her face. I went straight to my dormitory, not even bothering to say hello to Ron and Harry (both engrossed in their own homework) and crawled into my bed. Pulling the curtains around it, I lifted the end of my mattress and pulled out _Art Through the Ages_. Whispering "Lumos" under my breath, I set my wand next to me and cracked the cover, pulling out a sheath of drawings, mostly done in pencil, of my beloved Professor. 

_Don't worry—I'm sure someone else'll ask you._

_If only he would,_ I thought sadly. An unnoticed tear trekked down my cheek and fell onto the edge of the papers. 

"Hey, Harry, can I talk to you a sec?" I asked, taking a seat across from him. He looked up from his homework with a smile. 

"Sure thing, Case." 

I gave Ron a pointed look. 

"Oh, right." He raised his eyebrows, but gathered up his books and found residence at a nearby table. I leaned closer to Harry. 

"Look… Um, about the dance…" 

He looked at me hopefully, his green eyes waiting. 

"I can't go with you." 

"Wha-? Why not?" 

"I…I already have a date…" I trailed off, already knowing how unbelievable I sounded. 

"Yea, sure. Like who?" 

Maybe it was the way he said it, maybe it was because I was already in a foul disposition, but for some reason, that made me angry. 

"Whaddya mean, like who? What—you're the only guy who'd want to ask me to the dance?" 

"I didn't mean that, Casey-" 

"ARGH! You are so impossible! What, is me having a date with someone other than the Godlike Harry Potter such a hard idea for you to understand!? Maybe I do have another date! Ha! Maybe I have ten other dates, and all of them are better dancers than you!" 

"Yea, well maybe I have ten other dates that are prettierthan you!" he said back hotly, then clasped a hand over his mouth. "Casey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate-"

"Then why don't you go ask one of them? More specifically, why don't you go ask Hermione, then? She obviously believes there's something attractive and likable in you!" 

"God, are you PMSing or something!? What the heck is the matter with you tonight!?" 

"Never, ever_, EVER_ blame my vengeful fury on PMS! EVER!" I shouted. 

"Can you feel the love tonight," Ron, ever the humorous one, sang from behind us. 

"How 'bout I take that love and shove it up your-" 

"What is going on with you, Casey!? Ever since Halloween, you've been acting strange." 

"According to you, I'm always acting strange! Maybe that's just my normal personality!" 

He stared at me evenly, unblinking. I lowered my eyes. "Look. I can't go with you. But Hermione can. So please ask her." 

"Did she tell you to say no to me?" 

"It doesn't matter. You'll have more fun with her, anyway." 

"Who are you going with?" 

"Don't worry about that. Besides, we can still sit together." 

He shook his head. "Something's up with you, Case." 

"You're just jumping to conclusions." I sighed. "I'm just tired. And sick of studying." 

"Think maybe we should have a group hug?" Ron suggested, grinning madly. 

"Bite me," I snapped, standing up. "I'll see you guys later." 

"Raor!" Ron made claws and swiped them at me. "Someone needs a nap." 

"Leave her alone," Harry muttered as I made my across the Common Room. 

"Hey, Neville, how's it going?" I asked, seeing my pal the Walking Chaos. 

"Casey! Hi!" 

"Hey—d'you need a date for the dance?" 

"Well…um….yea…" he blushed. 

"Great. So do I. Let's solve the problem by going together. Whaddya say?" 

"Really?" he looked shocked. "Yea! That'd be great!" 

"Fabulous. Thanks, Neville." I flashed him a grateful smile before trooping upstairs. 

"Bye!" he called out after me. 


	11. Default Chapter Title

I would like to take this moment to give my utmost thanks to everyone who's been so supportive of me. It's truly appreciated. Honestly. (ooh, and thank you, Unicorn Lady, for giving me an idea for this bit… you'll know it when you read it) 

_Also, my apologies, but this is another one of those "ACK! NOW WHAT!?" kinda endings… I wanted to post this last night, but I didn't finish it before my brother got the computer. *grumbles* At any rate, the next part will be up very shortly---I promise! _

_ _

_Jk rowling owns everyone but casey and remus. He's already taken. :)_

# Chapter Twenty-Five: Reasons Why You Don't Chew on the End of a Quill & the Dance Pt. 1

The week of the dance was also the week of finals. Snape had assigned a particularly nasty potion that had to be precise or it'd end up like powder (which earned poor Neville an D). But in DADA, all we had to do was write an essay on anything we had covered in class. Easy enough. When I went to turn the paper in, Remus' eyes focused on mine and our fingers brushed as the parchment exchanged hands. 

"How are you, Casey?" 

"I'm good. Thank you." I withdrew my hand, feeling guilty. "How're you?" 

"Good." He set the essay down (it was the second one finished, after Hermione's) "All ready for the dance tonight?" 

"Sure." 

"I assume you're going with Harry?" his voice was too controlled, too even to be natural. I flushed, realizing he sounded jealous. 

"No." 

"No?" he looked up, not even bothering to hide his surprise. 

"I'm going with Neville." 

His eyes darted to the corner where Neville, head bent laboriously over his essay, was chewing on the end of his quill. Even as we both watched, he started to cough, pulling a feather out of his mouth and shaking his head. "Oh, really." 

"He's a sweetheart!" I said defensively, but before I could say anything else, Neville's hand shot up in the air. 

"Professor Lupin! May I please get a drink of water—I think I swallowed part of my pen!" 

As Lupin, grinning madly, turned his eyes back to me, all I could do was cover my own eyes with a hand. 

"Go ahead, Mr. Longbottom." 

Neville's chair scraped across the floor and he hurried out, flashing Lupin a grateful smile. Remus lowered his head to concentrate on stacking papers. "Well it will certainly be an interesting evening." 

I bit my lower lip and turned my eyes skyward. "That's almost guaranteed." 

"I'll try to look for you to say hi." 

"Alright." 

Neville had returned by then, so I simply went back to my seat. Neville was a sweetheart, and just because he was slightly… absent-minded… meant nothing. 

Yet, even with that thought determinedly kept in the front of my mind, I couldn't help but stifle a giggle whenever my eyes met with Lupin's. Without a doubt, it would surely be a night I'd never forget.

"Oooh….I'm so excited, I'm all shaky!" Hermione gushed, adjusting the top of her cute little strapless gown. "Look at this!" She held out her hand to illustrate her nerves at work. I put a hand on her shoulder. 

"It's just Harry, Herm. The guy you see every single day. No biggie." 

"Maybe not to you…" she sighed dramatically. "But to me, it's a huge deal." 

I shook my head, grinning, and turned to pull my dress on. It was a Medieval styled dress with the split skirt at the bust, revealing the layers of silk underneath. It had long sleeves that ended with a sparkling hem, and was off-the-shoulders, which caused me some alarm due to my slightly smaller than average chest size, but Hermione had shown me a charm that kept it in one place. (thankfully). She had curled my hair and pinned half of it back with glittery clips, and I had done hers in a French braid. We complimented each other a few times before taking deep breaths to head downstairs. 

All of the Gryffindor guys were waiting in the Common Room, milling about aimlessly, trying not to look too nervous. As the first of us trickled downstairs, they all stopped talking to watch us. It was very embarrassing. Fortunately, Harry, Ron, and Neville had stationed themselves close to the stairs and we didn't have to walk far. 

"Wow," Harry murmured as I walked by him to Neville. "You clean up good." 

"Thanks." I rolled my eyes, then smiled brightly at Neville. "You look nice, Neville."

"So do you," He offered me a white rose, flushing bright red as it promptly became entangled in a loose thread in his sleeve. The next five minutes were spent trying to untangle the rose without deraveling his robe, with both of us looking extremely embarrassed. 

"Are you two ready, yet!?" Ron asked impatiently, tapping his foot. His date, a sixth-year Ravenclaw named Gail (who, Harry had confided in me earlier, was extremely well-endowed, wink wink) was supposed to be meeting us downstairs, and he didn't want to make her wait. 

Finally untangled, we all headed to the Great Hall, bewitched into a sparkling wonder-land. The gigantic Christmas tree in the corner was the brightest light in the whole room, but dozens and dozens of sparkling candles floated everywhere. The ceiling was a deep navy blue, filled with millions of twinkling stars, and the floor seemed to be a swirling mist of lavenders, blues, and golden clouds. The tables, covered with crimson and forest green cloth, were bedecked with lilies, holly, and each napkin had been meticulously folded into swans. ("No doubt another unpaid service provided by the House Elves," sniffed Hermione, much to my confusion)

We were almost the first ones in, so we claimed a table and waited for the rest of the school to wander in. Gail was near the end (which irked Ron) but she seemed nice enough as she exchanged "oohs" and "awwws" with me and Hermione over how lovely everything looked. 

After the last student had found their way to a table, Professor Dumbledore stood up to make a few announcements. Basic stuff, about how pleased he was to see all of us looking so nice. Not to show any disrespect to him or anything, but for most of his speech, I had my eyes fastened on Lupin. He was wearing a black robe over a dark blue collared shirt and tan pants. He looked uncomfortable, as well as his neighbor, Snape. But Snape looked sour and uncomfortable. At least Lupin managed to appear pleasant. 

"Would the 7th years like to start things going?" Dumbledore asked, to the applauding and cheering of the rest of the students. We all stood, making our way to the huge area reserved for dancing.The soft, colorful blur of cloud-like smoke, reflected with the hundreds of candles, enveloped us as music wafted through the air from the back of the Great Hall (where a very motley looking band had been set up), beginning the Holiday Dance.

To give Neville credit, he did try. Honestly. And I wasn't much of a dancer anyways. So between the two of us, we decided to sit the next few songs out. It was nice to watch everyone else dancing, anyway. Especially Ron, who, it seemed, had picked up a few moves from his crazy brothers. Gail had lost her sweet demeanor, and was looking rather annoyed at the scene her date was making. Harry and Hermione danced very well together, but from the looks Harry kept shooting towards the table, Herm was the only one enjoying it. 

"You hungry?" Neville asked, looking anxious for something to do to make sure I was enjoying myself.

"Sure." I smiled warmly as he hurried off to find something to eat. Seconds after he had left, I was visited by a less welcome face. 

"You surprised me, American," Snape muttered. "I'd have thought for sure you and Potter would be dancing together." 

"I'm full of surprises," I said lightly, not feeling in the mood to heckle him. 

"I can imagine."

"I'll have to admit, you surprise me, too, Potions Man. I'd have never thought you'd come to a dance---and looking so dressed up!" 

He smiled wryly. "Good to know that fancy dress and hair-do of yours hasn't kept the smart-ass American I know so well from coming tonight." 

"Do you have a mission in life to make me angry?" 

"Why? Is it working?" 

"NO!" I crossed my hands over my chest and pretended to be engrossed in the dancers. But I couldn't help but shoot a glance over to him, trying to figure out why he was still standing there. 

"Where's your beloved Remus when you need someone to dance with?" Ah, the taunting never stopped here at Hogwarts.

"I wouldn't know," I answered hotly. "Seriously, do you need something? Cause you're really killing the mood." 

"What mood is that?" he asked, smirking. "The 'I-dressed-up-to-impress-someone-and-now-I'm-going-to-sit-here-at-this-table-in-the-dark-and-not-dance-for-the-rest-of-the-night-because-I-don't-want-them-to-think-I'm-trying-to-impress-them' mood you seem to be radiating?" 

I scowled. "For your information, I have every intention of dancing tonight!" 

"Oh really? So what's stopping you?"   
"I don't see you dancing, Potions Man! So stop being such a cursed hypocrite and leave me alone!!"

"I don't dance," he sniffed. 

"Aha! At last-an admission of ignorance! Miracles do happen!" I threw my hands up in the air in praise. 

"I never said I _couldn't_ dance," he growled. "I simply stated that I don't dance." 

"Sure." I rolled my eyes. "Just like I don't pee standing up, right? I mean, it's not that I couldn't, it's just that I choose not to." 

If looks could kill… He was furious. "Dammnit, American—one of these days, that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble." 

"These boots weren't made for walking," I sang, purposely acting strange in order to peeve him. 

"That's it!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of my chair roughly, fingers digging tightly into my flesh. 

"Hey!" I stumbled over the chair, sending it reeling as I clamped a hand to my arm, trying to pry his nails out of my skin. "What the heck are you doin'!?" 

His face set in a ferocious glare, he pulled me to the dance floor and dug his fingers into my waist. "I'm showing you what happens when you question my authority!" he snapped. 

I finally realized what was going on. "Waaiiiittt! Uh uh… No way!" 

"If I hear one more word out of that mouth of yours, I swear you'll be moving boxes for the remainder of your holiday!" 

I closed my mouth, but set it in a defiant frown as he jerkily tried to keep time with the music. Everyone dancing past us gave me raised eyebrows and smirks at the Potions Teacher trying to dance. 

"So this is you're big, glitzy dance routine you've been holding back on, eh?" I joked, trying to loosen his death-grip on my fingers. 

"Quiet!" he snapped, lips forming numbers as he counted his steps. 

I rolled my eyes skyward, inadvertently landing on the Head Table. Remus was sitting, eyes narrowed, watching me and Snape. My breath caught in my throat, and I unconsciously tightened my grip on Snape's shoulder. The look on his face, the way he was staring at us, was so piercing, I felt as if I were a guilty kid being caught eating cookies before dinner. I had seen that look before, so many times, on Snape's face—but it had always been when Remus had bested him in some way, and earned the recognition or praise between the two. A look of bitter, heated, jealous anger.On Snape, it seemed like a second nature. But on Remus, my beautiful, sweet and endearing Remus, who never uttered a negative word about anyone, it was the most uncharacteristic expression he could possibly wear. 

His gaze shifted and stared at me head-on. I blinked, trying to understand what was going on behind those hazel eyes. He continued to stare at me, still frowning, for a very long moment before he finally turned his head. I bit my lip, eyes lowering to his hands, where his swan napkin had been brutally torn to shreds. Confused, I lifted my eyes back to his face, and was shocked to see him watching me again, his expression non-changing. 

Once again, I clenched Snape's shoulder tighter than intended, and I was forced to refocus my eyes on his angry face and mumble an apology. By the time I had looked back to Remus, he was gone. 

The song ended (thankfully) soon after that. 

"I'll admit it, Potions Man—you danced pretty decent for a bitter old man." I pulled away and gave him a half-smile. "Maybe now you should work on that expression of yours. Grrrr!" 

"And I'll admit, American—you've surprised me once again. Your mother would be very proud of you." 

My mouth dropped open. Snape. Giving me a compliment? He was obviously repulsed by the same thought, because he made a hasty retreat towards the buffet table, leaving me alone in the strands of swirling mist. 

# Chapter Twenty-Six: The Dance, continued

As the night wore on, I began to get worried. Neville had never come back after his initial trip to get food. And to make matters worse, every time Snape passed by me (which, I will steadfastly argue, he did purposely for the sole reason of mocking me) he would mutter "How's the mood, American?" 

Ron was also feeling pretty rejected. Gail had stalked off on the arm of another man ("A stinkin' _Slytherin_, for God's sake!" Ron had wailed dramatically) after Ron refused to tone down his "dancing". He did manage to finagle a friend of his younger sister's to dance to with him a few times, however, which left me alone at the table for pretty much the majority of the evening. 

Harry meandered over during Hermione's bathroom break. He didn't even bother with the formalities, just reached his hand out and smiled. 

Eagerly following him out to the dance floor, I noticed with some alarm that the band was slowly winding down, meaning a slow song was on the horizon. 

"You look great," Harry murmured, hand gently wrapped around my middle. I blushed, ducking my head. 

"Thank you." 

He smiled down at me softly. "Having fun?" 

"Yea," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just wish I knew what happened to Neville." 

He laughed, taking a step closer to me. "That's what happens when you ditch me for someone else." 

"Hey now," I warned, laughing uneasily at his sudden closeness. "Neville's a good guy." 

"Sure he is. But honestly?" he pulled a long black thread from the rose I had tucked behind my ear and arched an eyebrow. I shrugged.

"How's Herm?"

"She's fine," he shrugged back. "I'm surprised—she never seems to go for this kinda thing. But she's been up here, dancing all night." 

"She looks beautiful tonight." 

"She does," he agreed. 

By then, Hermione had returned and was waiting impatiently at the side of the floor. I noticed and gave Harry an apologetic smile. "I think your date wants to cut in." 

He obediently released my hand and stepped back, watching me make my way back to the table. "Thanks for the dance." 

"Anytime." 

So once again I was resigned to the empty table, chin cupped in my palm, trying to look like I was enjoying myself. 

"Casey." 

I turned, feeling my face go red. "Hello, Professor Lupin." 

"Why're you sitting over here all by yourself?" 

"Erm… Neville seems to have vanished." I said stupidly. 

He didn't look surprised. "Are you having a good time?" 

For some reason, I just understood that I could be honest with him. So I shook my head. "Not really. No fun getting dressed up and sitting alone." 

He met my eyes, almost shyly. "You looked so beautiful, sitting over here by yourself. Like one of those women in the Medieval paintings." 

"Only they have knights to come rescue them." 

He pretended to be hurt. "Am I not wearing silver-erm, _black_ armor!?"

I shrugged. "And they have exciting lives." 

"I saw you dancing with Severus earlier—that had to be slightly thrilling." 

I rolled my eyes. "Don't even get me started on that…" 

We both laughed nervously. As the next song began playing, he tilted his head towards the dance floor. 

"You, uh, wouldn't want to dance, would you?" 

I couldn't help but stare at him in surprise. "I would love to." I finally managed to answer. 

He offered me his arm, with a warm smile to accompany it. I grinned, linking my arm through his and allowing him to lead me to the dance floor. 

"I'll have to warn you," he began, his hand resting on my waist while the other one interlocked with my fingers. "I'm not much of a dancer." 

"That makes two of us," I smiled, holding to his shoulder tightly. 

As we began to dance, I found myself drawn back to his eyes again and again. Despite my shyness around him, those eyes were so compelling, I couldn't look anywhere but. 

"So… how've you been?" he asked, trying to break the nervous silence. 

"I've been good." I finally said. "It's strange to see snow on the ground. Didn't have much of that back in Florida." 

"I wouldn't think so." He laughed. 

"How're you?" 

"Fine. Thank you." 

We danced on while I wracked my brain for something intelligent to say. But being so close, smelling that deep, musky aftershave he was wearing… Made it hard to think. Or stand up straight. And from the look in his eyes, his thoughts were somewhere along that same line. 

"I…I want to tell you something, Casey," he said, his voice shaky. I realized we had stepped closer together, his hand tightening around my waist as I stared up at him, heart racing. 

"I think I have something to tell you, too." I said softly. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it again, looking torn. We had stopped dancing, but our hands remained locked together. 

"Professor-" 

"Remus," he corrected urgently. 

"Remus… whatever it is, I'm listening." 

We had moved even closer, mere inches apart. His free hand moved to my bare shoulder, brushing away a strand of hair. "I… I think that maybe I might be-" 

"WATCH OUT!" 

A sharp ping, followed by shouts of terror, suddenly filled the air. People around us began screaming, running in every direction, as the ill-timed Falcon Powder Bomb (much like stink bombs, I presume) began wafting out in every direction, but we stood rooted to the ground, alone in a room of hundreds. 

"Think that maybe what?" I prodded, feeling light-headed as his fingers brushed back my hair. 

"I think that maybe we should stop dancing," he pulled away abruptly, taking a step back, a wild, guilty look on his face. A hand went to his mouth, and for an alarming moment, I felt the absurd notion that he was going to be sick. "I'm sorry, Casey," He mumbled, pushing his way though the crowded dance floor and disappearing into the swirling colors.I was left alone, staring after him, with tears on my cheeks and a sinking, shameful guilt in my heart. 

# Chapter Twenty-Eight: Only One More Sleep 'Till Christmas

This chapter is dedicated to Kacee, because she's the one who wrote the original plot for it about a week ago. I'm just borrowing her idea and working it into the story 'cause it's the sweetest way for this to work out…

__

I avoided Lupin like the plague after that night. No matter what his reasoning behind his swift and sudden departure, I felt it was owed in part to me. I had done something—maybe the way I had looked, or acted… And he left me. It was a very depressing holiday. 

On Christmas Eve, the four of us were all hanging out in the Gryffindor Common Room, in front of the fireplace. 

"…then she had the nerve to tell me I had copied her notes! HA! As if I would ever copy! And _her_ notes, of all the ones I could choose from!? HA!" Hermione was recounting a story from the finals (one we'd all heard about a dozen times already). 

"Lemme guess-you told Professor Peyton, he gave her a D. Am I right!?" Ron grinned, beating her to the finish. She huffed angrily and leaned back, sticking her tongue out at Ron. 

"You've been quiet lately," she pointed her chin in my direction. I looked up from my transfixion on the flames and gave her a questioning look. 

"Maybe it's cause she's sick of hearing that story, too," Ron muttered. 

"Do you feel ok?" 

"Are you vomiting!?" Ron asked excitedly. 

As they pummeled me with questions, my eyes met with Harry's. He wasn't asking questions-simply watching me. He'd been like that ever since the dance. Always watching me, as if seeing me for the first time. It was slightly unnerving. 

"So, em… whaddya do here for Christmas Eve?" I asked suddenly, trying to break that uneasiness Harry instilled in me. 

"Have a nice dinner. Stay up late. Open presents tomorrow." Ron shrugged. "Nothing too spectacular."

"There's gonna be a big snowball fight tonight-" Hermione added. "For everyone who's here. Even McGonagall is gonna go, I heard." 

"Tonight? Won't it be too dark outside?" Harry asked, finally removing his green eyes from me. 

"Oh, no, there's a full moon tonight," Hermione said airily, waving her hand. "It'll be bright as day out there." 

"There's a full moon tonight?" Harry's eyes glanced over at me. But my head was lowered and my eyes were fixed on the carpet. A full moon tonight was nothing new to me—I had known about it since the last full moon. 

"Aw, man, that's gotta suck for Lupin," Ron shook his head. "Being a werewolf? On Christmas Eve? Yuck." 

"That's so sad," Hermione agreed. "I mean, it's bad enough to have to be a werewolf once a month—but to have it be on Christmas Eve? Poor Lupin." 

I said nothing because I had said all of it to myself already. 

"It's almost dark now—I wish I'd a known about this sooner—we could have gone to say hello earlier," Hermione fretted, looking out the window at the deepening dusk. 

"Too late now." Harry shrugged, standing up. "But, we do still have time to get to dinner." 

They all stood, but I remained in my seat, staring intently into the fireplace. 

"You comin'?" Ron asked. 

"Oh, no, go on ahead. I'm not very hungry." I said absently, not moving my eyes. 

"Are you sure? It's gonna be a long night." Hermione said in her motherly tone. 

"No, it's fine. I'll be good." I finally offered them a smile. She shrugged. 

"Suit yourself. See ya later." 

"Bye," I watched them crawl out of the portrait hole, my face flushing as Harry gave me one last stare. It was as if he knew what I was planning on doing, but didn't want to say anything. So he just gave me that look. The 'don't-do-something-stupid' look. 

Once the portrait had swung shut again, I stood and went to the window. Bright reds and oranges danced over the snow, making it seem so unbelievable that someone I loved was only minutes away from being transformed into something inhuman. I leaned forward, my nose and forehead pressing against the glass, and tried to block the image of Lupin, transforming, hurt, scared, and all alone from my mind. 

Closing my eyes in frustrated misery, it hit me. I'd go see him. I'd just run in really quick to see him before the moon rose, then come back. Maybe that would set my racing mind to rest. And while I was there… maybe then I could ask him what I had done to make him leave so hurriedly. Or at least try. 

With a determined look, I crawled out of the portrait hole and nearly ran down the halls towards his room. Making sure no one (in particular, Snape) was in the hall, I knocked softly on his door. 

"Who is it?" his voice, sounding worn and raspy, wafted through the door. 

"It's, um… It's Casey," I told the door, doubts beginning to surface. 

The door swung open in seconds, and I had to cover my mouth with my hand at the man I saw before me. Hunched over, seemingly in infinite pain, his hair was wild and unruly, his face unshaven with deep set circles under each eye. His shirt was half untucked, and one hand was holding his stomach. 

"Casey-" he croaked. "What the hell are you doing here!? You have to leave-" 

"I—I just needed to see…you…" I trailed off, an overwhelming feeling of pity washing over me. I had to grab hold of the doorframe to keep myself steady. 

"Don't you realize—any minute…" he took a shaky breath. "Please leave." 

"Professor---" 

He grabbed my arm and pulled me inside so quickly, it took a moment to register the movement. He pushed me towards the wardrobe, and with a start, I realized his door was opening again. 

Snape waltzed in with a triumphant grin lighting up his face just as I disappeared into the wardrobe. He said something in a low voice to Lupin, laughed, then performed a spell with his wand. 

"Pleasant dreams, Lupin," he jeered, slamming the door shut behind him. There was a loud click, like a bolt being snapped across a lock.

"What did he-" 

"Soundproofed the room." Lupin explained between jagged breaths. "Casey, please… I am begging you. You have to leave. Now, while I can still perform the spell to unlock the door--" 

"I can't leave you all alone." 

"Dammnit! I don't want you to see me…like this…" He grimaced, dropping to his knees. I kneeled beside him, putting an arm on his. 

"Professor Lupin…" 

He shook it off. "GO!" 

"No." Said with such conviction, such clarity, I surprised myself. He turned a pair of bloodshot eyes to me with a pathetic look of pleading. 

"Casey-" 

"I am not leaving you." 

He opened his mouth to say something more, but the moon had finally risen into the night sky. With a howl of pain, his head was thrown back, cords sticking up like rods as he began to transform. His clenched fists were forced open as they rounded themselves into claw-filled feet. 

With a look of terror, I backed myself against the far wall, hand to my mouth as he was slowly turned from a man into a werewolf before my eyes. Screaming sobs of pain wracked my ears as it happened, and the next thing I knew, it was over. No longer was I in the room with Professor Lupin. I was in it with a werewolf. 

For a moment, I was terrified. Despite my knowledge of how fake werewolf movies were, having one only feet away from you tended to make you rethink them. But then his head turned, and a pair of deep brown eyes looked straight at me, a recognition lighting up. 

I managed to make it to my feet, but had to sink to the bed after a few steps. Lupin was watching me, looking at me as if to say 'I told you.'

"I had no idea it would hurt that much," I said softly, finally noticing how shaky I was. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. "I had no idea." 

The brown eyes were filled with shame and pain. I could see the words in his mind. 

_Look at me. Look at the monster I am. Why couldn't you have allowed me one ounce of dignity by keeping this away from you?_

Tears swelled in my eyes and began spilling over before I had a chance to control them. "You're not a monster," I whispered, shaking my head. 

I don't know for sure how long we stayed like that, his eyes looking out through the body of a werewolf, meeting my own blurry, tear-filled ones. But it wasn't long before he had come to me, pressing his nose against my leg, as if to comfort me. 

I sank to the floor, new tears flooding out. I hugged him tightly around the neck, crying into his fur as I tried to rid myself of all the painful emotions I had been harboring since the night he had left me at the dance. 

WhenI could finally control myself, I pulled away. His nose nuzzled against me again in a reassuring manner, then he sat back on his haunches and tilted his head. The position was so Professor Lupin, I couldn't help but smile shakily. 

"I don't suppose you have any way of talking to me?" 

All I got was a shake of his head. 

"Well… you can at least answer yes or no questions… That's something." I wrapped my arms around my knees and bit my lip. "Are you in pain right now?" 

Shake. 

"Do you ever get scared?" 

There was a long pause. Then a nod. 

"Does it hurt as much when you transform back?" 

Shake. 

I couldn't really think of any more questions. The room was getting darker, save for the luminance of the moon. 

"I wish you could talk to me," I whispered softly, hugging my knees tighter. "Tell me what you're thinking." 

He lowered his head to his front paws and watched me, not blinking. He looked so innocent and helpless, despite the fangs and claws. Like a big pet dog. I didn't want to know how different he'd be if Snape didn't make him the wolfs bane potion every month. 

We sat, staring at each other, both lost in our own thoughts, for what seemed like hours. I didn't move until I head voices shouting from outside his window. His head perked up, ears turning themselves towards the noise, his nose trembling slightly. I put a hand on his neck and stood, slowly making my way over to the window. Peering out, I saw the snow ball fight Ron had been talking about earlier. It seemed the entire faculty was out there, along with the dozen or so students who had stayed on during Christmas. 

Forehead pressed to the glass, I put a hand on the window frame and watched them, shouts and laughter ringing through the night, oblivious to Remus' plight. Lupin joined me, front paws on the windowsill, giving me an questioning look before turning to survey the madness below. 

"Look—there's Harry—" I jabbed a finger at the window. "And Ron… Where's Herm-Oh. Doing homework. Figures." I grinned, shaking my head. "Hey—even Dumbledore is out there!"

His paw scratched at the glass, a low humming in his throat. 

"What's the matter?" 

His eyes narrowed, jerking his head towards the snowball fight, then nodding at me. 

"Wha? I-I didn't want to go, though… I'd much rather be up here." I said quickly. He shot me a low look, then turned to pace around the room, making that low howling in the back of his throat. 

"I mean that, Professor." I kneeled on the bed, an elbow still perched on the windowsill as I watched him pacing. "I don't regret doing this. No one should be alone on Christmas Eve. Including you." 

He shook his head, giving me that look again, a look of self-pity and loathing. 

"Don't even spend the night feeling sorry for yourself like that!" I said angrily, getting to my feet. "Nobody's perfect." I crossed my hands over my chest and glared at him. "I came here to keep you company, not to throw you a pity-party. Stop thinking about how horrible your life is, just because of this. You should be thankful for what you do have—a job, a beautiful office… A talent for painting, a passion for life—and respect from nearly everyone you meet… and…and…" I sat down on the bed, turning my head to avoid looking at him_. And you have a student who's been in love with you since the moment she saw you… who thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world, and would do anything for you..._ my mind finished for me. 

But what had been spoken out loud had been enough for him. He gave me the most apologetic look he could muster from a wolf's perspective, and nudged my arm with his nose. I wrapped my arms around his neck again and promised myself that, before the night was over, I would tell him how much I loved him. 


	12. Default Chapter Title

_Right---this one is kinda long, and gets smooshy, but bear with me. I've been trying to write, do homework, and sing the theme to the Gummi Bears all at the same time… OOOH!!!!! HEY! I have my NBC art posted right now! Go see it! [http://www.geocities.com/professor_remus/nbc_art.htm][1]_

_But read these ones first so you know what the pictures are._

# Chapter 29: A Long-Awaited Confession

Since I had never really had use for a door-unlocking spell, I couldn't remember the words to enable myself to leave his room. Not that I would have. Even later on in the night, when I suddenly remembered the word Alohomora, I declined to use it.

Not that Remus seemed to mind my company. I had built a fire (using his wand, seeing how I had forgotten to bring mine) in his fireplace, and it cast the entire room in a dancing, flickering light. From outside his window, the moon was glimmering brightly on the white snow, now marred and broken by the snow fight, but still beautiful. 

After my tirade against his self-pity, Remus had become amazingly sweet-tempered, and had curled up next to me on the bed while I read aloud from one of his many books, one on King Arthur. Apparently, we were both addicted to the medieval, Arthurian legends. 

At around midnight, I couldn't stop myself from yawning. It was only once, but to Lupin, it was enough. He jumped off the bed, grabbed the book in his teeth, and set it on the floor. Then, front paws perched on the edge of the bed, he used his teeth to pull back the blankets, nodding his head at me. 

"I can't take your bed away from you!" I protested sleepily. "I can sleep on the floor. Not a problem." 

He gave a very hands-crossed-over-his-chest look of disapproval and pretended to bite my hand. I grinned, clicking off the only lamp that we had been using, and obediently crawled under the heavy blankets. 

"Prof-" I started. He growled. "Alright. _Remus_. May I ask you a question?" 

He jumped into the easy chair, resting his paws on the arm and his head on his paws, giving me a gentle nod. 

"At the dance… when you left… did I do something wrong?" 

Even though he had no vocal abilities, I could have sworn I heard him say "never." But I did register him, jumping next to me on the bed, nuzzling my arm with his nose, before I slipped into sleep. 

Dawn was breaking when I woke. For a moment, I was disorientated and alarmed at the unfamiliar scenery. But it all came rushing back to me when I sat up, turning my head. Next to me, mouth slightly open as he breathed deeply and jaggedly, was Remus. No longer the werewolf I had been curled up to during the night—I was sharing a bed with the man I had sworn I would confess my feelings for. 

For a moment, I couldn't do anything but stare at his peaceful face, watching him breath. The night had taken it's weary toll, but for now, while he slept, everything was calm and placid. 

A sudden urge hit me then, and before I could stop myself, I did the one thing I'd been agonizing over since I had first met him. My fingers moved the brown hair from out of his eyes, smoothing it back against the side of his head, then moved down his cheek. His mouth closed into the barest trace of a smile before he turned he turned his head and slept on.

Pulling myself from under the covers, trying not to wake him, I rearranged the blankets around his thin shoulders. Smiling faintly, I took a seat next to him on the bed, watching his profile as he breathed. Touching his unshaven cheek softly, I leaned closer. 

"I promised myself I would do this, Remus, before I left. I wanted to tell you… I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, in _Painted Runes_. I feel like we're connected somehow. Even when you say nothing, I know what you're feeling. And I know you can feel it, too. I know it sounds stupid—I'm 17, you're my teacher… But if I don't tell you, I'll regret it for the rest of my life." 

I took a breath, closing my eyes. "I realize… we could never really be together, but I still dream about it. I dream of the day when I can tell you this when you're awake, and listening to me. To see those beautiful hazel eyes, looking deep into mine, to tell me you feel the same way. Maybe, one day, it'll happen. Maybe it never will-" my voice broke and I realized I was crying. "But there's always that slight glimmer of hope I hold in my heart. And I just want you to know that. 

"I love you." 

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I kissed his cheek softly.

"Merry Christmas," I whispered brokenly, as he gave a small sigh and turned onto his back, completely oblivious to my words. 

I had admitted it. Said what was in my heart for nearly four months. And now I had to leave him. 

Using his wand, I whispered "Alohomora," under my breath, and, giving one last look at his sleeping face, left his room. 

## Chapter Thirty: Likely Excuses

It was too early for anyone to be out in the halls, which lured me into a false sense of security. I didn't even bother to open the portrait hole quietly, just jumped right on in… And ran smack into Professor McGonagall. She glared down at me, hands on her waist, flanked by Dumbledore and Filch. 

"Uh oh…" 

"_Where in God's name have you been!?_" she exploded. "We have been worried _sick _about you!" 

"I, uh…" 

"Casey, you realize how severe this is… You could've been anywhere," Dumbledore broke in, a bit more kindly than McGonagall. "And under the conditions…" he didn't finish. 

"I was just…walking…all night…" I thought fast. "Y'know, cause it's Christmas and everything… I just felt a little homesick." 

McGonagall's eyes softened immediately. "Oh, my poor child! How could I have forgotten… Oh dear…" She sniffed. "You missed your family?" 

"I just didn't want anyone to see me crying," I went on, trying to look guilty. It worked well—I felt more ashamed of myself for lying in that moment than ever before. "I didn't mean to cause so much trouble." 

"Where did you go?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling as if he already knew the answer. 

"Erm…around…" I shrugged. "I didn't really pay attention. I'm sorry." 

Filch was busily trying to sooth McGonagall, who had obviously taken my words in a motherly fashion. Dumbledore leaned closer to me, a warm hand on my shoulder. "Just make sure you're careful next time." 

"Oh, it won't happen again," I promised lightly. 

"Not till next month, eh?" he winked. 

My mouth dropped open, the shut quickly. "I, uh… heh, heh…" I forced a laugh, my hand rubbing the back of my neck nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about, Professor…" 

He nodded, smiling faintly. He put an arm around McGonagall. "I think we need to all retire to our respective rooms and try to enjoy Christmas morning… We'll see you at breakfast, Casey?" 

"Yes…breakfast…" I echoed softly as they exited. Then, realizing that everyone would be waking up soon, I hurried upstairs to retrieve their presents. 

I sat next to the window in the dormitory, staring out at the falling snow while I waited for everyone to wake up. There were presents stacked at the end of my bed, something that surprised me for a moment, but I didn't want to shake anything until Hermione was up, at least. 

It didn't take long. I'm not sure why, but everyone wakes up early on Christmas morning. Maybe it was a biological clock that went off to make sure we didn't oversleep. Maybe it was just the knowledge that there would be presents that did it. I don't think I'll ever know. *sigh*

"Where were you last night!?" 

"Merry Christmas to you, too," I raised an eyebrow, turning my head to see her angry face. 

"Casey!"

"I went for a walk," I shrugged, leaving my perch at the window and sitting on my bed. "Don't worry about it. Open your presents!" 

She gave me another glare, one that clearly implied that she had a feeling I had broken some rule and that she was disapproving of it, but obediently reached for her gifts. 

Ron had given her a bottle of perfume, which, after she had so excitedly sprayed it, turned out to be yet another one of George and Fred's gag gifts. We had to open the window to air out the smell of rotted tomatoes. But everything else was non-bewitched and quite pleasant after that. 

Since I had sorely lacked the funds for extravagant gifts, I had stuck to what I did best—wrapping up my artwork and giving it out. She complimented me on the landscape she got, as I thanked her for the walkman she had bought me. 

"It's been charmed to play on the grounds," she explained, handing me a tape. "So don't let McGonagall catch you with it—she'll have a fit." 

After stashing everything away, we hurried to the Common Room to meet Harry and Ron. They both gave me the same spiel Hermione had, but Ron was more vocalized about it while Harry just stood back, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. When he thanked me for the painting, his voice was formal and distant. It perplexed me, having him staring at me, as if formulating ideas and opinions in his mind on my whereabouts last night. Not a good thing that early in the morning. 

Heading down to breakfast, I made a quick detour to Lupin's room. (yes, I went back…) I knocked, but he was already downstairs, so I just set his gift on his desk and hurried back out. 

And then, debating with myself even as I knocked, I waited for Snape to open his door. He glared at me viciously. 

"What do you want, American!?"   
"Well, for one thing, Merry Christmas," I said, forcing myself to sound cheerful. "I know we're not the best friends in the world, but I wanted to give you this anyway." I handed him my card. He took it suspiciously. 

"What's this?" 

"It's commonly-referred to as a Christmas card," I explained. "It's for you." 

He looked from me to the card, then back to me. "I—I didn't get anyone a card…" 

"Don't worry about it…" I smiled. "It's just a card—no biggie. I'm gonna go down and eat now—so I'll see ya later. Merry Christmas." 

"Yes…. Merry Christmas," he echoed, looking quite stunned. It was wonderful. Made even better by the loud blast that followed me down the stairs, then the bellowed 

"_AMERICAN!!!!!"_

Grinning, I practically skipped to the Great Hall. 

Chapter Thirty-One: Another Perfectly Executed Enchantment (aka, Christmas, Weasley Style)

Once there, however, I immediately sobered, unsure of how to act around Remus. I needn't have worried, he had his head bent low as he ate, barely looking up at anyone. 

McGonagall, looking much more composed by then, gave me a hand on the shoulder before asking me to pass the muffins. 

"What on earth is keeping Severus?" Dumbledore asked, looking towards the doors as we all ate. I snuck a glance at Ron, who had gotten me the card from his ever-useful and ingenious brothers. His face turned a bright red as he tried not to laugh out loud. 

As if on cue, Snape came stalking into the room, looking murderous. His face was covered in makeup, and little pink and purple flowers were dotted in his hair. His robe had turned mauve. He took his seat with as much dignity as he could muster, pouring himself some tea. 

"Erm, Severus… Your business is your business, and I don't mean to pry into your personal affairs, but…" Professor Dumbledore trailed off, looking quite amused. 

I couldn't help it. I burst into laughter, which started Ron in. While we laughed crazily, Remus finally looked up, giving Snape a critical look. 

"Y'know, Severus, that shade of purple is really quite becoming on you." 

I fell out my chair, clutching at my sides as I started crying with laughter. The remainder of the sane people left at the table exchanged looks. 

"Casey, would you care to explain this lovely enchantment to the rest of us?" Dumbledore asked kindly as I pulled myself back into my seat. Remus' eyes met with mine, crinkled with suppressed laughter, as I tried to proclaim my innocence. 

"I wouldn't have any idea, sir…" 

"You seem to be declaring your innocence a lot today," he mused out loud. My face flamed, and I went to look towards Lupin again, but Harry's penetrating gaze stopped me halfway. I had to lower my eyes in guilt while Harry glanced towards Remus. 

"It was just a joke." I mumbled.

"I don't see Professor Snape laughing." 

"He's laughing on the inside." 

"Casey, may I please have a word with you after breakfast?" The tone Dumbledore used, so unlike his cheerful self, sobered me instantly. 

"Yes, sir." 

I didn't say another word until the meal was complete. While the others shuffled off to do whatever they felt like, I sat, staring at the table, waiting for him to speak. 

"Casey, I realize you're at a rough time in your life… the first holiday without your parents… but you need to know when to quit while you're ahead." 

"It'll only last for an hour," I started to say.

"Please-let me finish." He gave me a stern look. "I'm not going to tell you what you should and should not be doing—you're nearly an adult, I trust you to make those decisions yourself. However, I am going to warn you—you might want to be a little more prudent with your choices. I may be a doting old man, but I can assure you, there are many, many people who will not be as lenient." 

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't understand if he meant my Christmas card or my early-morning entrance. 

"On the other hand," he broke into a grin. "I'll have to admit, that truly made my morning." 

I grinned back, relief flooding through me. "Isn't that great? Another perfectly executed enchantment, provided for your enjoyment by Feorge and Gred Weasley." I quoted, remembering the inscription at the back of the card. 

"Ah, Fred and George… the mind shudders to think of what they're up to…" he sighed. "I'm afraid a detention will be in order, but I'm sure we can postpone that until the term begins again. And you will listen to what I've said?" 

"Of course." I nodded. "And thank you." 

"Anytime, Casey. I'm always here if you need me." 

"Thank you," I repeated, standing to go. "Merry Christmas." 

"You too." 

I left quickly, hurrying towards the tower. And, as per the usual, clichéd way of seeing the person you have a crush on, I ran right into Remus. 

"Erm…hello…" I said nervously. 

"Casey—I was looking for you." 

"You were!? Why?" I didn't bother to hide my surprise. 

"Not here." He looked over his shoulder, as if he expected someone to be spying on us. "Will you meet me outside? In the garden, about twenty minutes?" his warm eyes locked with mine. "There is much to say." 

"Of course," I heard myself saying, but my voice was fuzzy, far away, dreamlike. Remus said something along the lines of goodbye, and I floated away towards the Common Room, imagining all sorts of scenarios that could result from a meeting, in the gardens, in twenty minutes. And the majority of them were rather pleasant. 

"What'd he say to you?" Ron asked the instant I had climbed through. "Am I in trouble?" 

"Huh? Oh…. No…" I murmured, sinking into a chair and staring off at the wall, still daydreaming of Remus. 

"Are you ok?" 

"Yes." I gave him a silly grin. "I'm perfect." 

Harry looked up from the book Hermione had given him. "Where were you last night? And this morning?" 

His question snapped me back to reality. He was waiting, eyes concentrated on me, searching my face for any give-aways.

"I told you… I just went for a walk.. And got lost a few times." 

"Lost in the halls or in someone's eyes?" he muttered, turning his attention back to his book. 

"What is that supposed to mean!?" 

"You know what it means." 

"Maybe I don't." 

"Then you're a lot dumber than you look." 

I stared at him, hurt. Ron raised his hands in a "I'm innocent" manner and backed away…quickly. 

"Why are you treating me like I'm an enemy, Harry!? For the past week, all you've done is stare at me, giving me cold looks, saying things like that! Why?" 

"Why have you been treating me like a child?" he shot back. "Ever since I met you, you say one thing, then do another. You walk around here, always talking about the same thing, drawing the same person… Then act surprised that I would question you on it. I'm not blind, Casey. I can see what's going on." 

"If you know what's going on, then by all means, enlighten me!" I crossed my arms over my chest angrily, waiting for him to continue. 

He muttered something and shook his head. "Just forget it." 

"No! Tell me!" 

"He is twice your age!" he exploded. "And your teacher! How on earth can you let yourself do this!? Don't you realize what's going to happen? You'll be expelled, for one thing. He'll lose his job—again—because of this, and be left alone to wander the streets, trying to find some work to keep himself alive. All for the sake of your stupid, childish, romantic fantasies!!" 

Ron was listening with renewed interest. Apparently, this was all new to him. 

"I'm doing nothing wrong by talking to him, Harry! And neither is he!" 

"So why can't you tell me where you were last night?" 

"I already have." 

"No, you told me you went for a walk. To where? And for how long!?" 

"I went around the school. All night." 

"Seems pretty coincidental you vanished right before the moon rose." 

"Seems pretty obvious how boring your own life is, to have to catalogue and record mine so much." 

"All I'm trying to do is get you to understand the absurdity of the situation you're in right now, Casey. Give it up. How he acts today could be forgotten by tomorrow. Older men are attracted to younger women all the time. But it doesn't mean they want to commit to them. Hardly ever, do they really. You're just an amusing source of fun to him." 

"That's not true." 

"Yes it is, and you know it. Otherwise you'd've already walked away from me. But here you are, still listening." 

"Because I was taught it was rude to walk away in the middle of a conversation." 

"Pity your parents taught you manners, yet forgot to instill some common sense." 

Tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to blink them back, but they spilled out anyways, betraying the doubt I had kept inside. He wasn't using me—there was no way. I would have known if he was. His actions were pure, sweet, and honest. Weren't they?

"I didn't mean to make you cry," Harry mumbled apologetically. "But you have to understand he doesn't really want a teenaged girl, Casey. He wants—he needs—someone his own age." 

"Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered, heart breaking. Harry sounded so positive, so certain… Suddenly, all the times I had spoken to Remus—even last night, seemed to turn to a different perspective. I saw it the way Harry wanted me to—a 36 year old man, falling in love with his 17 year student? Hadn't Remus even said it once—"Do you really believe I'd fall in love with one of my own students?" 

Feeling drained and shattered, I backed unsteadily towards the stairs. 

"Casey—" Ron put a hand out towards me, to steady me, I suppose. But I turned and fled up the stairs, too hurt for words. All that time, I had been so blind to what had truly been happening. 

_No, _a part of me screamed. _You love him. And you know he would never do anything like that. Not to you, not to anyone. _

__I loved him. I had even said it to him. And for what? For him to have a good laugh over, later on, looking back on it. I could see him, writing a letter to that Padfoot friend of his…

_Hey—listen to this: For the past four months, I've been acting all sweet and wonderful to this kid I teach, making her believe I was this perfect guy… Then, when she tells me she loves me (this will crack you up, Padfoot!) I told her to meet me outside so I could tell her what a gullible little dreamer she was. HA! _

_Oh, P.s.—tell my girlfriend I love and miss her, and not to worry—Casey was only a game for me. Something to pass the time. Keep me amused while I was away from the one I really loved. _

__When I pulled on my new sweater Ron's mother had so thoughtfully knitted me (with a bright blue C in case I forgot how to spell my name) and swung my cloak around my shoulders, I was determined to tell Remus exactly what I thought about his fun and games. He'd be sorry he ever thought he could do that to me. 

Stalking down the stairs and out the portrait hole, I fumed my entire way to the crisp snowy outdoors, taking a small satisfaction at the loud crunching my feet made in the new snow. He was already out there—his footprints led the way. 

Resolve hardened, mind screaming with words to shout at him, I turned the final corner and stopped dead in my tracks. There he stood, bundled in a heavy black coat, scarf whipping around him in the bitter wind, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He had been inspecting his shoes at my arrival, and as his eyes slowly rose to meet mine, my words vanished. Something inside me clicked, and in one instant, I realized how absurd Harry's accusations had been. The day Remus J. Lupin used me for an indulgent amusement would be the day I stopped breathing. 

"Hello." 

"Hello," I echoed weakly. 

"Thank you for the painting… It's extraordinary." 

"You're welcome." 

"I don't have a painting for you," he smiled softly, taking a step closer to me. "I don't have much of anything to give to you," he pulled his hand from his pocket. "All I have is this." 

He held his closed fist out towards me. I numbly opened my palm, feeling a slight weight as he dropped something into it. Looking down in silence, I saw a small silver chain with a tiny glass teardrop at the end. Upon closer inspection, I saw it was full of swirling, shifting wisps of colored smoke. It looked like there were tiny fireflies inside, lighting up the smoke and making it glow softly. 

"This is beautiful! What is it?" 

"It's called an Enchanter." He explained, taking the necklace and reaching behind my neck to fasten it. "It's supposed to bring you love and happiness. All that superstitious stuff." He forced a laugh as I tried to look anywhere but his face, looming only centimeters from mine as he worked. 

"Thank you," I whispered. He focused his eyes on me, having gotten the clasp to shut. 

"You're welcome." He answered back quietly. His hands were now resting lightly on the tops of my arms, eyes locked with mine. 

"I'm sorry if I made you angry last night, when I wouldn't leave-" 

"No, I'm glad you stayed," he cut me off. "Despite my protests, I hoped you would." 

I blushed, ducking my head. 

A soft hand tilted my chin upwards. "Casey, I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me." 

"Alright." 

"I had a dream last night… the most amazing dream… and you said something to me. I just wanted to know---was it truly a dream, or was it real?" 

I bit down hard on my lower lip. This was the moment. The moment that would change everything. 

"I said… I told you…" I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. "It was for real," I whispered, feeling a tear sliding down my cheek. 

"I was afraid it was just a dream," he murmured, reaching to wipe it away softly. "So afraid it was just my imagination." 

"I'm sorry—I know I'm just a kid to you," I began, starting to cry harder. "But I can't help how I feel-" 

"Casey, last night, you put into words what I've been feeling since that day back in August. Even before I spoke to you—I saw you walking towards the store, and knew that somehow, in any way possible, I had to speak to you. To know you. And I've been the luckiest man alive to have that chance. And the chance to hear you saying those words to me…It doesn't matter how old you are! I'm in love with you, not your age." 

I blinked back tears and stared at him, unable to believe what he had just said. He saw my look and laughed, nodding. "Yes, Casey, I said I was in love with you." 

"But all those times-" I started, but he put a finger to my lips and quieted me. 

"That doesn't matter anymore," he murmured. "All that matters is that we both know now. We don't have to pretend anymore." 

And in a moment that seemed to last forever, yet end all too quickly, he pulled me close and kissed me. 

_ _

   [1]: http://www.geocities.com/professor_remus/nbc_art.htm



	13. Default Chapter Title

_Sorry it took so long to post this—I've been sick a few days, and been trying to catch up with schoolwork.(also, it's a bit angst-ridden, apologies beforehand) But yes, I will continue this until Casey graduates {at least} so there will be more after this. Thank you again for reviewing nicely. _

## Copyrighted JK Rowling

_ _

# Chapter Thirty-Two: Shattered Trust

When we drew apart, his warm brown eyes titled down to mine. "D'you know how long I've wanted to do that?" he asked, a faint smile on his lips. 

"As long as I have?" I whispered, savoring the warmth of his arms wrapped around me. 

His eyes twinkled, and he leaned down to kiss me again. "Longer." 

The cold wind whipped around us as we clung to each other tightly, not wanting to let go. I pressed my cheek against his chest, hearing the soft beat of his heart as he pulled me closer. 

"What happens next?" I asked him softly. 

"I don't know," he answered honestly, fingers brushing back my hair. 

"Professor Dumbledore already knows. And Harry thinks he does." 

He sighed. "I know." 

I pulled back, studying his face. "Did Harry tell you that I was only playing-" 

He tightened his grip on my arms. "Let's just say he was quite persistent in his arguments." 

"Why would he do that?" 

"For your protection, I suppose. Or mine. Who knows for sure?" 

"Protection from what?" 

He lowered his eyes. "You can't honestly think we can do this without repercussions?" 

"Well, no, I don't… But-" 

"Casey," he sighed. "You're still a student here. That's all anyone will care about—none of this, none of what we feel-" he touched my cheek softly, "will matter to them. Only your age, your status, and my position here at the school will matter." 

I covered his hand with mine, closing my eyes against the tortured look on his face. "It took me forever to get to this moment, Remus… I can't bear having to wait any longer." 

"I know how you feel," he said back quietly, resting his forehead against mine. "Believe me, I know." 

I returned to my dormitory with a great deal of sadness, despite the warmth Remus had given me. To not know, to not understand the depths of our love for one another…To remain blissfully unaware and innocent with the constant ray of hopeful reciprocation looming forever out of reach. Or to know, to have that treasured, shared bond, only to have to deny it to ourselves because of our roles in society. Which would be better? 

I became so lost in mulling the two possibilities, idly twisting the necklace around my neck, I didn't see Ron taking a seat across from me. It was only when he had positioned himself in front of me and did a quick cheer did I finally acknowledge his arrival. 

"Oh, hello Ron." 

"Hey." He sank down next to me. "I was beginning to worry I'd have to take off my shirt or something." 

"Please don't," I pleaded. 

He grinned, leaning back. "Soooo… you and Lupin are an item?" 

"Who told you that!?" 

"Duh… I was only standing right there when you and Harry blew up." He gave me an idiotic look. 

I sighed, letting the chain drop from my fingers. "Harry's got an over-active imagination." 

"Actually, Harry's one of the most well-grounded people I know," He said seriously. 

"Well he's wrong," I said stubbornly, remembering the goodbye kiss I had only moments earlier shared with Remus and flushing slightly. 

"He seemed pretty convinced." 

"Look," I leaned forward, cupping my hands on his shoulders and staring at him. "I said he was wrong. Who would know better? Him or me?" 

"Erm…well… I suppose you'd know yourself….slightly better than Harry would…" 

"Exactly." I pulled back. "He's just… I dunno. Mad at me." 

"Jealous, is more like it." 

"What on earth does he have to be jealous about!?" 

"Lupin." He shrugged. "Vicious, never-ending circle, isn't it?" 

I clenched my hands into fists and gritted my teeth together. "ERGGGGH! I swear I'm going to kill him!!" 

"Whoa---easy there…" he held his hands up. "Don't get mad at me." 

"When will he believe me!?" I stood up angrily. "I'm sick of having to defend myself, and Professor Lupin, to that narrow-minded, one-tracked moron! How boring can his life possibly be, to have to do this to me!? To fabricate fantasies over a friendship? It's ludicrous! Doesn't he realize what a waste of time and breath his obsession is!? _GET THE HELL OVER IT!!!_" 

Ron, looking like he was trying not to laugh, lifted a shaky finger to point to someone behind me. "Ba-ad timing, Case." 

I whirled to see Harry, standing with his hands crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed as he listened to me fume.

"What? Come to make some more accusations, Harry? Want to yell at me some more? Lets see if you make me cry again. Go ahead. Let's argue it once more, for old time's sake!" 

He continued to stare at me, saying nothing. 

"What? Can't think of anything new to scream at me? Why not stick to the argument you seem to like the best—Go on. Tell me how much I'm in love with my teacher. Tell me how stupid and childish I am for even thinking there could be a possibility, in some never-never world. _SAY IT_!" 

"I didn't come down here to accuse you of anything." 

"That's new," I muttered. 

"Ron, will you please excuse us?" Harry asked. 

"Aw, come on!" 

"Ron, please." 

He muttered something, shaking his head, but obediently trekked to the other side of the room, shooting us dark looks as he sat down at a table.

"What do you want?" I asked irritably. 

"I wanted to apologize." 

"Apologize? Why? Finally decided how useless and pointless your arguments were?" 

"You could say that." He took a deep breath, struggling to say his next words. "And because… Well…because I may have done something…And I'm sorry I did…" 

"What do you mean?"I asked, heart pounding as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Well…erm… After our fight…when you left…I, well…I kinda… went to talk to Professor Dumbledore…" 

I stared at him. "You went to Professor Dumbledore over this!?" 

"I was worried about you, Casey! You've been preoccupied with something lately, and you've been walking around in a bad mood… yelling, losing your temper… then last night. Where were you?" 

"What did you tell him?" 

"Nothing, I just—" 

"_What did you tell him_!?" I began seeing red splatches in front of my eyes. 

"I just mentioned that you seemed to be spending a lot of time away from the rest of us… how you've been wandering around…" he shrugged. "I didn't exactly come right out and say you and Lupin were becoming awfully close lately…" 

"Oh, of course not. No, you just hinted at it, right? Dumbledore'll figure the rest out…" I shook my head. "How could you do that to me? On no proof!?" 

"I had proof, Casey!" 

"Oh, really!? Like what? Your instincts!?" 

He bit his lower lip. "Hermione found some drawings under your mattress-" 

"What was she doing looking under my mattress!?" I exploded, disbelief flooding through me at this sudden turn of events.

"I asked her to." He said simply. 

"WHAT!?" 

"Girls always hide their diaries and stuff under their beds… I just wanted to see…" 

"Oooooh, I am this close to decking you, Harry, I swear to God I am…" 

"I did it for your own good!" 

"What did Dumbledore say about this?" 

"He said that they didn't mean anything—that you were allowed to draw whomever you wanted to. He said it was just a drawing—that you draw a lot of people, including Snape. And 'she doesn't seem to be in love with Snape, does she?'," He frowned. "He told me not to worry. That he would know if something was going on." 

"And that's why you want to apologize? Couldn't believe me, but once Dumbledore says it's ok, well, by all means, it must be!" 

"I was wrong, Casey. And I'm sorry." 

"I can't believe you. You accuse me, call me a liar, go behind my back, _invade my privacy_, and tell the headmaster of the school that I'm having a torrid love affair with one of my professors. And you expect me to forgive you for that?" 

"I—I was worried," 

"You were suspicious and untrusting!"

"I'm sorry-" he put a hand on my arm. 

"Don't you dare touch me," I pulled away, taking a step back towards the stairs. "Don't even talk to me. Just leave me alone—find someone else's life to ruin." 

Without another word, I stalked up the stairs and slammed the door to the room. 


	14. Default Chapter Title

### _Much apologies—it's been a week since 32, and I'm sorry. This week sucked pretty bad for me. Hope you like these two. Jk rowling owns all. _

### 

### Chapter Thirty-Three: Cheesy Grins and Potatoes

"Casey? Are you still mad?" Hermione asked softly, peering around the corner of the curtains. 

"Go. Away." 

"Casey, please, don't sit there and be angry all day." 

"Hermione, d'you have a diary?" I asked suddenly, forcing a smile on my face.

"Well, yea-" 

"Can I read it?"

"No! Are you crazy, that's personal-" she stopped short, flushing. "Oh. Look, I know it was an invasion of your privacy, but it was for your own good." 

"Screw that, Hermione! You had no right!" 

"Well at least we know, now." 

"You knew before! I told you! Many times! There was no reason to look through my things except for your total lack of trust and respect for me!" 

"You make it sound so terrible-" 

"ARGGGHHHHH!" I threw my pillow at her. "Leave me alone!" 

She gave me a ferocious 'stop being a baby' look, but obediently turned and left me clutching my remaining pillow to my chest as I felt my anger seething through my veins. Life sucks sometimes. 

I stayed in my room until dinner, ignoring everyone's attempts to get me downstairs to the common room. I even waited until I knew they'd be gone before venturing down the huge staircase, wearing my huge comfy sweater for security. It was old, raggedy, and falling apart, but it was warm and reminded me of Christmases when my dad would gather me and my mom into the big armchair by the tree and read us "A Christmas Carol". Now I wore it when I felt lonely, sad, or just needed to be reminded of how he always used different voices for each character. 

"Ah, here's Miss Franklin now," Professor Dumbledore said as I entered the Hall, everyone else already eating. "We were beginning to get worried." 

"No need to worry about me," I said, being over-cheerful to a point of sarcasm. "I'm spectacular!" 

Everyone gave me puzzled looks (Well, the faculty, at least) as I took the only empty seat (next to Harry) and pulled it to the end of the table. Plopping it down in a freed corner, I took a seat and forced a cheesy smile on my face. "What's the matter with everyone? I walk into the room and you all stop talking. No need to alienate me any more than you already have!" 

Professor McGonagall whispered something to Dumbledore, who shook his head and started eating again. I tried to ignore the whispered conversations that began the second I reached for the potatoes, despite the number of times I heard my name being mentioned. 

Setting the bowl back down, my eyes met with Remus'. He gave me a questioning look, silently asking what had happened. And for the first time since I had found out my supposed friend had went behind my back and betrayed me, I felt like crying. His warm eyes were holding mine, trying to read the thoughts behind them. Just the simple act of him caring that much. 

Jerking my eyes down to my plate, I concentrated on cutting my food in tiny bites instead of the sideways glances from nearly everyone at the table. I was so bent on keeping each bite even, it was no wonder I was soon one of the last ones in the Hall. Only Dumbledore, Remus, and Snape remained. 

"Casey, are you alright? You seem a little angst-ridden today." Dumbledore asked me, sipping a cup of cocoa. 

"I'm fine, thank you," I muttered, pretending my chicken was Harry as I stabbed it with the prong of my fork. "Just tired." 

"Did you have a pleasant Christmas?" 

"It was just peachy, thanks for asking," I forced another cheesy smile. "How was yours?" 

He raised an eyebrow. Snape was trying not to look too cheerful at my apparent bitterness. The vex had worn off by now, but I could still see a faint streak of blush on his cheek. 

"Mine was good." 

Remus was trying to stall the finishing of his own cup of tea. He kept taking minuscule sips, making me wonder if he was trying to get me alone. The thought made me feel a little better, but when I looked back at Snape's foul face, it disappeared. 

"Severus, will you please go see if Minerva can come to my office in ten minutes, please?" Dumbledore asked softly, his voice holding a tone of unquestionable authority. Snape, looking irked that he had to leave, with me and Remus so close, stood up and mumbled something as he tried to walk slowly to the doors. Dumbledore waited until he had disappeared up the stairs before he spoke again. 

"It has come to my attention," he began, setting his cup down, "that there are certain parties suspicious of an inappropriate relationship between the two of you." 

Remus shot me an anxious look. "Who, sir?" 

"That's not important. What is, however, that they've noticed something unusual." He gave us both stern looks. "I'm not going to condemn anyone for their private business, as long as it remains private. Do you understand?" 

"Sir, I can assure you, we've done nothing….to be condemned…" Remus was saying. 

"Remus Lupin, I could always tell when you were lying to me," he said, eyes twinkling. "Even when you were running around with James and Sirius." 

"But, Sir, I swear-" 

"Save your energy for everyone else. You'll have to do a lot of convincing for them, not for me. All I ask, is that you do nothing to tarnish the reputation of this school. I will be forced to take certain measures if it comes to it. Is that understood?" 

I had my eyes focused on my plate. Remus answered, "Yes, sir," in a shaky voice for the both of us. 

"Well that's that, then. Oh, Casey, dear---" I looked up to see his grin, "Lovely artwork. You have a talent. That's good to see." 

I blushed bright red, redirecting my eyes to the ceiling. "Thank you, Professor." 

"You two have a lovely evening." Dumbledore said softly, standing up.

"Goodnight, Professor," I whispered weakly as he began ascending the stairs towards his office. I raised my eyes to Remus'. He looked very shaken. 

"How did he-?" 

"Harry and Hermione." I answered. 

"What-?" 

"They found some of my drawings that I had done of you…" 

It was his turn to blush. "I'm sorry." 

"For what?" I sighed. "I'm sorry that I didn't hide them better." 

He laughed, reaching out to cover my hand with his. "How are we going to manage this for another six months?" 

"Eat very slowly." I smiled. 

"We can always meet at night." 

"Good idea. Then when I get caught wandering the halls, I can tell them I was just looking for something to eat…" 

"Well? Do you have any better plans?" 

"I can steal Harry's cloak." 

"Oh, sure, that won't make anyone suspicious." 

"What other choice do we have!?" I asked, exasperated. 

"Weekends?" 

"I don't know." I suddenly felt very tired. "I really don't know." 

"We have to think of something." 

"Do we have to do it right now?" I closed my eyes, resting my forehead on the table. "I've had a really bad day." 

He moved to the seat next to me and put an arm around me, cheek on my shoulder. "Of course not, Casey. We have all the time in the world." 

# Chapter Thirty-Four: Foiled Surprises

We made a plan that night. Due to the overbearing suspicions of everyone around us, it'd be ludicrous to try to sneak away at night to see each other. Especially now, while everyone was still curious as to why I had drawings of Remus under my bed. So it was strictly student/teacher until the weekends. And even then, we could only see each other if there was some major happening to cover our absence. (Like a Quidditch game, or a trip to Hogsmeade). 

Even with those set rules, disappointing as they were, we knew we'd be able to manage it. Especially since we had taken up writing letters and finding places to hide them for each other. It was while I was pulling a letter from out of the mouth of a Gargoyle statue that I was struck with an idea. An impromptu rendezvous. 

With renewed enthusiasm, I hurried to the deserted bathroom to read the letter, already formulating my plan. Tonight was New Year's Eve—there was no way I would miss spending it with him. And, even though I had stopped speaking to them (aside from Ron—he had had no part in the sinister plot) I knew that the three of them were planning their own little celebration in Hogsmeade, using one of the secret passageways they had found along the line. Which meant less chance of them noticing I was gone.

I read his letter quickly, grinning like an idiot when I got to the closing line,_ as always, R. _That was another precaution we took, in case someone else might find the letter before us—only using initials. Or code names, usually derived from one of the many books we both loved. He would be Lancelot, I was Guenever. Or Wesley and Buttercup. 

At any rate, once I had finished reading the letter, I stuffed it into the back pocket of my jeans and hurried to the Common Room, working out the nasty little details to my midnight escapade I had planned. 

"You look awfully chipper," Ron said causally, looking up from his game of Wizard Chess. Hermione glanced up, but lowered her eyes quickly. 

"That's because I am in a chipper mood!" I did a little half-step on the carpet and sank into the chair next to him. "Who's winning?" 

"I am, of course." Ron winked. 

"Only because you distracted my knight two moves back!" Hermione huffed angrily. 

"Where's Harry?" 

Their mouths dropped open, Ron's hand poised in mid-air, reaching for his Bishop. 

I looked at them, confused. "What?" 

"I thought you hated him." Ron raised an eyebrow.

"I do! I just was wondering!" I scowled defensively. "Sorry I asked!" 

"He's upstairs…" Hermione answered slowly. "Why?"

"No reason." I stood up. "See ya later." 

"Hey—you coming tonight?" Ron called as I headed for the stairs. "We're gonna sneak into Hogsmeade and watch their fireworks!" 

"I think I'll pass—but you guys have fun." I gave them both a bright smile before jogging up the steps to my room. 

After McGonagall had come in to say goodnight, the three of them left, invisibility cloak in hand. 

"You sure you don't wanna come?" Ron asked one last time as Harry and Hermione disappeared in front of me. 

"I'll just be a fourth wheel," I waved a hand in the air. "Besides—I have my book, I have my colored quills… I'll be perfectly fine." 

"Well alright." He looked reluctant to go. "You're missing out, Casey. The fireworks aren't like those ones you muggles always watch." 

"I don't like loud noises too much," I lied. "But go on! You'll miss them if you stand in here all night!" 

Ron shrugged and covered himself. I heard a disembodied "Later" before the portrait hole swung open and shut quickly. 

As soon as I was sure they had gone, I sighed in relief, tucking a bookmark in between two pages of my book, setting it on the floor. The time was now. No one else was anywhere in the tower—I had it completely to myself for the first time that whole year. Doing a half-spin with my arms wide open, I grinned broadly before hurrying towards my room. In the trunk at the foot of my bed, which held all the clothes I had brought with me, I began tossing out pairs of socks and pants, trying to find what I was looking for. 

"Aha." I pulled it out, tugging at the sleeves to un-wrinkle it as I gave it a once-over to see if it was decent enough. After finding no rips or tears, I quickly undressed and pulled the dress over my head, hair escaping my ponytail and flying in every direction as a result. Wrinkling my nose, I pulled the hair-tie out and shook my hair back, smoothing it once with an impatient hand. After shoving the rest of my clothes back into the trunk, I went to Hermione's bed stand and looked for her perfume. (the un-cursed one) I stuffed an extra pillow under my blanket (in case Herm came looking for me too early) and closed the curtains around the bed. 

Ten minutes later, hair brushed back, smelling like melon-raspberries, and holding my sketchbook, I took a deep breath and crawled out of the Common Room to my Lancelot's room. 

Luck was with me that night---I met or saw no one in the halls. Perhaps it was simply a misleading trick of fate. But whatever force was working that night, it was in my favor, and I reached the door to his office with a pounding heart and a nervous shake. We hadn't seen each other, alone, since Christmas dinner, and the last time I had worn a dress, it had been half-dark and surrounded by dozens of other dress-clad students. But now, tonight, it was only him and me, and his reaction would be all it took to make or break the smile on my face. 

Givinga quick knock, I stood back and waited for him to open the door and see me. 

Biting on my lip, I tried knocking again. 

"Hmmm…. I didn't think about this one…" I pressed my ear against the door, trying to hear any tell-tale sounds to indicate he was inside. Perhaps asleep. But I heard nothing. 

On a whim (and since luck was smiling on me) I tried the doorknob and swung open the door, disappointment sinking in as my eyes tried to pierce through the inky blackness. He hadn't said anything about being gone tonight. But then again, I hadn't really asked him his plans. Only assumed. 

"Dammnit," I cursed softly, stepping inside. So much for surprising him.

I shut the door behind me quietly, setting my sketchbook on his desk and reaching over to turn on his table lamp. Bed neatly made, floor immaculate, his teapot standing silently at attention at the corner of his desk, it was like looking at an extension of my tidy professor. Even when he was out of the room, I felt he was standing there. 

The great grandfather clock against the wall read 11:37. I stood, trying to decide what to do. Either go back to the Common Room, and ask him where he was the next time I had a chance, or wait for him to show up. Surprise him anyway. I mean, he couldn't be gone all night; the teachers all slept at Hogwarts every night.

Mind set, I tapped my wand on his tea kettle, bringing it to a full boil instantly. I grabbed two tea-cups, set the bags inside, and poured the hot water, eyes darting to the door every few seconds to check for any signs of his re-entry. 

11:46. 

Sighing, I sunk to his chair, half-heartedly twirling my wand like a baton. 

11:53. 

Head leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, swiveling his chair in semi-circles. Both cups of tea were drained. I thought about making some more, but decided against it. My bladder couldn't handle four cups. Not within ten minutes. 

11:57. 

I stared at the giant clock, transfixed as the pendulum swung back and forth. I remembered Mr. Davis, my physics teacher from back in the States, telling us how it managed to keep swinging, never stopping. Something about kinetic and potential energy being balanced. It made me homesick to think about, so I moved my eyes to the door, hoping Remus would walk in. Soon. 

11:59. 

I had my chin propped in my palm, watching the new snow falling outside the window. Not the way I had imagined I would be spending the evening. 

12:01. 

"Happy New Year," I whispered to the empty room, blinking back tears of frustration. Where was he? A million possibilities swarmed through my head, most of them bad. What if he had gotten hurt? Or worse, Snape had found out something and had him cornered? 

_What if he's out with someone? _A nasty little voice asked suddenly. 

"No way. He wouldn't do that." 

_You sure? _

"Positive." I answered, but it sounded weak and uncertain. 

_Just go back to your room. Give up. _

"No. What if he comes in the minute I leave? I need to see him." 

_You're an idiot. _

"No I'm not." 

Yes you are. Look at you. Dressed up, perfume on, hair brushed out, sitting in an empty room, talking to yourself. 

"Shut up." 

_Go back to the tower. Spare yourself the embarrassment._

"I'm not leaving! So there!" I stuck my tongue out at the invisible voice, arms crossed over my chest defiantly. And, actually, it did. 

The minutes turned into an hour. Then two. By then I was becoming extremely sleepy, the end result of five cups of tea and a warm, semi-dark room. I could feel my eyelids slipping lower and lower as I struggled to stay awake. _Any minute now_, I kept saying. _He's coming. Just be patient. _

I was fighting a lost battle. The last thing I registered was the clock, striking two a.m. before my eyes shut completely, sending me into a deep and, thankfully, dreamless sleep.


	15. Default Chapter Title

_Happy Thanksgiving everyone. :) copyrighted JK Rowling_

# Chapter Thirty-Five: Hangovers and Hurried Exits

A loud bang jerked me awake. Someone was coming inside. And from the way they were stumbling along, it was a very drunk someone. 

Furious that he had been out drinking, I pressed my eyes shut, waiting for the registration of his unexpected visitor. 

"HEY!!!!" a loud voice boomed out. 

"Shhhh! D'you want to wake up Severus!?" a quieter, more furtive voice cut in harshly. 

"There's a girl in your room!" the other, drunken voice, stage-whispered. 

Two voices. One belonged to a (much to my relief) sober Remus. But who was the other? 

I slowly opened my eyes just enough to see Remus leading a taller, dark haired man to the bed.

"Why d'ya 'ave a girl… in your room…?" the man slurred sleepily, sprawling out on the bed. 

"Just go to sleep, Padfoot. I'll explain it to you in the morning." Remus raked a hand through his hair shakily. He looked exhausted, his tie loosened and his hair rumpled. "Just sleep it off." 

"Merry Christmas, Moony!" The man, Padfoot, exclaimed happily before turning his head and quieting. 

"Happy New Year," Remus murmured, pulling the blanket over his shoulders wearily. Then he turned to face me. I shut my eyes quickly, praying he wouldn't try to wake me and ask questions. 

"Casey… what are you doing here?" 

I almost answered him before I realized he was simply musing out loud. A soft hand touched my cheek. "You came to see me, didn't you? Even though you know you shouldn't risk it, you came… Look at you—dressed up and everything. And I wasn't even here." He swept my hair off my forehead and kissed me gently. "I'm sorry." 

He walked behind the chair, and I soon heard the loud screech of the wardrobe opening. Padfoot's heavy breathing missed a beat at the unexpected interruption, but quickly fell back into rhythm. Remus was moving clothes and hangers in the wardrobe, finally returning to stand in front of me. I was about to peek out through my eyelashes again, but I was suddenly being lifted up by a pair of strong arms, making me feign tranquil sleep once more. My back screamed in pain at being moved from the wooden slats of the desk chair, and I had the sinking sensation of a sleeping foot. But I managed to ignore it all when I felt Remus taking a seat in the bigger, much softer, armchair, pulling me against him tightly as he fanned the blanket over my side. His fingers brushed hair back from my face, his other hand wrapped around my waist tightly, and I felt his lips brush against mine softly as he whispered, "Happy New Year, Casey." 

Smiling sleepily, I pulled closer to him in response, already drifting back into sleep.

I was running, trying to escape from something behind me, but I had no idea who (or what) it was. Something dark and evil, if the wind and the stormy skies had any connection to it. 

I managed a quick glance over my shadow, trying to discern what I was running from, but I all I saw was a dark shadow, gaining. Terrified, I put on more speed, knowing that, if I didn't escape that shadow, I wouldn't be alive much longer. 

A sharp pain found its way into my side, making it difficult to keep moving. One hand clutched at my waist, trying to ward the pain from growing, but it soon overpowered me, sending me reeling to the cobblestones below. I tried to get to my feet, but the stones had turned into dozens and dozens of tiny green demons, all clutching at my legs, scratching my skin with their sharp nails and razor-point teeth. They screeched and squealed with the joy at having me captured, helpless to flee the darkened shadow. I felt it over me, the air dropping twenty degrees instantly. 

"I've been waiting for you." 

"Please don't hurt me."

"I only want to kill you," the shadow laughed. My blood turned icy. 

"Why?" 

"Isn't it painfully obvious?"

"Who are you?" I tried to see through the gauzy darkness, but the source of that sinister voice remained hidden. 

"I am everything you ever were afraid of." A heavy, shadowy hand fell on my shoulder. "It's time." 

"No…please. No." I shook my head frantically, trying to pry myself away from that horrible grip. 

"It's time. It's TIME! IT'S TIME!" The voice grew louder, more instant… more familiar. 

"NO!!!!" 

"Casey! It's time to wake up!" 

My eyes flew open, Remus' worried face jumping into focus. For some reason, I was on my back on the floor. 

"Casey—are you alright? You fell off the couch, then started screaming…" 

"He was trying to kill me." I gasped, heart still pounding. 

"Who was trying to kill you?" He kneeled next to me, holding my hand tightly. "Casey, you scared me to death… screaming like that…" 

"He said he wanted to kill me!" I repeated frantically. 

"Who, Casey?! Who!?" 

I stared up at him, not even hesitating. "Tom Riddle." 

Remus' face turned even paler than normal. "Tom Riddle?" 

"I don't how I knew that," I shook my head, trying to stand. "It just came to me… When you asked." 

"Casey, do you know who Tom Riddle is?" 

"No. Is he a real person? Who is he?" 

Remus stood, pulling me up with him. "Never mind. It was just a dream. A bad dream." 

"It was so real."

"Most dreams are." 

"Not that real." I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. "His voice… was so… evil." 

"Just a bad dream," Remus repeated, but he avoided my eyes. 

"If you hadn't woken me up, he would have killed me." I said stubbornly. "You knew you had to wake me up, didn't you? You knew you had to." 

"Casey, that's ridiculous. I woke you up because you were screaming. And because it's time you need to get back to the dormitory before someone notices you're gone." He had his back to me, re-organizing his spotless desk. 

"Why are you avoiding my eyes?" 

He turned to look over his shoulder, offering me a weak smile. "You need to go, Casey." 

I stared at him, trying to read his expression. He turned back to his desk. 

"Where were you last night?" 

"I was with a friend." He forced a laugh. "Well… I was there… I don't think he's been all there for a while now." 

"Not a very nice thing to say about your only friend, Moony," a deep, pained voice said softly. My eyes darted to the bed where the drunken man from last night was on his back, a bag of ice pressed to his forehead. He saw me looking at him and flashed a bright smile. "Hey there. You must be the fabulous Casey I've heard so much about." 

"Yes… who are you?" 

"Just a guy with a hangover," he winced. "You're screaming didn't help too much." 

"Sorry." 

"Casey, this is my friend, Sirius Black. Or, as you've picked up on, Padfoot." Remus, looking relieved the subject had changed, made a quick introduction, standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders. "And, Padfoot, this is indeed Casey." 

"I figured as much, Moony." He gave me a long look. "Beautiful as promised… A little on the young side, but then again, you always were the one with the quirky habits." He closed his eyes. "Hasn't anyone ever told you you're too young for someone like Remus?" 

"Aren't you too hung over to be giving me advice?" 

He grinned, eyes still shut. "Oh, I can see I'm going to like her." 

"Yes, well, there'll be plenty of time to meet later… Some other time. Right now, you need to hurry—the sun's coming up." Remus steered me towards the door. 

"It was nice meeting you, finally," Sirius called out, hand to his head, as I was practically shoved out the door. 

"When am I going to get a chance to visit you again?" I asked, hanging to the doorframe so he couldn't push me all the way out. 

"I don't know, Casey," he sighed. "I'm so sorry I missed you last night. I was trying to keep Padfoot from drinking himself back into Azkaban." 

"Why was he-?" 

"Some other time." He kissed my forehead. "I'll see you at breakfast." 

"Alright." I watched him give me a tired smile before shutting the door. Even then, I remained, staring at the grain of the wood, trying to understand his slightly anxious behavior. I had heard about Sirius from Harry once. His Godfather, who'd been falsely accused of murdering Harry's parents, then sent to Azkaban for 12 years. He had been cleared of the charge two years ago, but there were many people who still believed him to be guilty. Which is why Harry was prohibited from seeing him. 

Noticing the first rays of sunlight outside the window at the end of the hall, I begrudgingly headed back to my dormitory. No angry McGonagall this time. Not even a suspicious note from Hermione. Apparently I really did resemble a lumpy pillow under my blanket


	16. Default Chapter Title

_*deep breath* Alright. I see the end is near… I think five chapters more and it'll be done. Whew. On to my Percy idea, eh? At any rate, here's 36 & 37, copyrighted by JKR and all, hope everyone had a great holiday, enjoy. :)_

Chapter Thirty-Six: The Chapter which is Actually Quite Short

Everyone returned to school the following Thursday, bringing some activity back. When you didn't speak to the only three people in the Common Room and weren't allowed to seek out your object of affection, life got pretty dull. 

I did miss having Remus so close during meals, however. With the return of the school, we went back to the House Tables, and the teachers returned to their proper places in the front of the hall. I learned quite a bit about Neville, including why he disappeared so mysteriously at the dance ("I forgot what I went to do and ended up in the Common Room," he explained earnestly). So meals weren't completely lonely. Just sad. Especially when all I had to do was look up from my plate and see either the two of my former best friends, laughing over a shared joke I had missed, or move my eyes to Remus, who was being constantly regaled with botany from Professor Sprout. I envied her the conversations she could have with Remus, free from worry, care, or suspicion. While I was confined to reading and writing letters back and forth with him, never being able to tell him how I was feeling, what I was thinking unless I wanted to evoke another panic. 

One Wednesday, mid-January, I couldn't take it any longer. After DADA finished, I "accidentally" left my bookbag unzipped, enabling me to spill my books everywhere in the doorway, creating an opportunity for Remus to bend down and help me scoop up my books and papers while everyone else, snickering at my situation, headed back upstairs. 

"How are you?" he asked in a low voice.

"Terrible." I answered honestly, shoving my Herbology book in my bag. "How're you?" 

"About the same," he laughed shakily, handing me the last of my scattered parchment. "I think I liked it better before." 

"Me too." I sighed wistfully. "I miss being able to talk to you. Well, to _anyone_, really." I lowered my head. "I've heard all of Neville's stories three times over now." 

"Don't you have a Hogsmeade weekend coming up soon?" 

"Not 'till February." We both stood. "There's a Quidditch game next Saturday—Ravenclaw and Gryffindor."

"Will you come see me?" 

"If you promise you'll actually be there this time." 

He flushed. "I didn't know you were going to do that, Casey—if I had, I can assure you, I would have been there." 

"I know." I smiled softly. "How's Sirius?" 

"Sober," he answered quickly, grinning. "And excited. Harry'll be 18 this July—meaning he can visit Sirius whenever he wants." 

"I thought he could now." 

"Well, see, that was part of the trial's verdict," Remus' eyes turned hard. "He was cleared of the murders, but he was refused custody of his godson for the way he handled himself during the time he was on the loose; cutting the portrait, shredding Ron's curtains… So he hasn't been allowed to see Harry without a court official since then." 

"That's awful," I murmured. 

"Yea." He smiled faintly. "I knew Harry'd go down to Hogsmeade to see the fireworks on New Year's. I overheard him and Ron planning it one day in class. And I knew Sirius would find out and try to see him. So I had to go to Hogsmeade and intervene. If someone knew Sirius went to see Harry without consent, it'd raise a bloody row." 

"Which explains why he was so drunk." 

"Yes. We watched Harry all night, but from a distance. Had a terrible effect on poor Padfoot." 

"I can imagine." 

We stood in the doorway, lost in our own thoughts. I finally broke the silence. "So I'll see you next Saturday?" 

"I'll be counting the hours until then." His eyes softened and he kissed me lightly. 

"Me too." I murmured dreamily, nearly hitting the door as I tried to remember how to walk. 

Chapter thirty-Seven: Home Improvements

"Aren't you going to the game?" Neville's round face popped over the edge of my book with a bright smile. 

"Erm… not today. I want to finish my book." I gave him a forced smile before returning to my book. 

"But it's your own house playing!!" he protested. 

"It's a really good book." 

"Cas-ey! You never do anything except sit in the Common Room by yourself anymore!" 

"I'm anti-social. So what?" 

"Don't you wanna see Harry play!?" 

"Not particularly." I turned a page. 

"Are you two still fighting?" 

"Not fighting, Neville. Simply not speaking." 

"Why not? Why can't you just get over it? What could possibly be so enormously huge that you can't forgive each other?" 

"If you really must know," I set my book aside, straightening to look him in the eyes. "That scum bag who calls himself Harry Potter and his little fink, Hermione, invaded my privacy and went to Dumbledore with an outrageous claim that I was going out of bounds with a highly respected professor here." 

"Who?" 

"It doesn't matter." I stood up. "But that's why I refuse to speak to him." 

"Didn't he apologize?" 

"Well…yes…" I avoided his eyes. "But what he did was unforgivable!" 

"But you forgave me for forgetting you at the dance… that seems slightly worse to me." 

"It's not." 

"But it sounds like he was concerned for you, Casey. I was just an idiot. He was sincere." 

"You're sounding awfully recited," I looked at him suspiciously. "Did Harry tell you to say that?" 

"No!" he jutted his chin out defiantly. "Hermione did." 

"Of course." I rolled my eyes. "Harry can't even apologize for himself." 

"But you said he already apologized once-" 

"That didn't count!" 

"Why not?" 

"Because… I was mad when he apologized! Everyone knows you always wait until someone cools off before you try to beg forgiveness." 

"Everyone?" he looked distressed. "I didn't know that." 

"It's common sense." I crossed my arms. 

"Oh dear." He looked confused. I couldn't blame him. When girls get angry, they get complex and confusing. (fact of life, here)

"So go tell Hermione I'll forgive her if she apologizes to me in person. Harry, too." I tried to look angry, but my eagerness to have my friends back won over and I ended up looking hopeful. 

"But Harry's in the locker rooms already. And Hermione and Ron just went to the stadium." 

"Then…. After the game." 

"Why don't you just go to the game, and talk to Hermione there?" 

"Erk, because…." I grabbed my book. "I'm reading." 

He raised an eyebrow, hand on hip. "Casey." 

"I can't go to the game. It's against my religion." 

"Alright." He sighed. "You're a difficult person, you know." 

"Thank you." 

I watched him leave, marking the last Gryffindor to exit the room. Then, jamming the book into the crook of my elbow, I crawled out the portrait hole and towards the Remus' room. 

I knew Snape was referring the game (he usually did when Gryffindor played, for some "odd" reason) so I was safe from his suspicious eyes as I knocked on the door. It swung open almost instantly, as if Remus had been standing by the door, waiting for me to arrive. 

"Hi." He said, smiling brightly. 

"Hello." I returned his smile, then threw my arms around him. "I missed you." 

He returned the hug with a laugh, shutting the door with one hand. "Same here." 

As I pulled away, he took my hand in his, leading me to the chair. "Sit down and close your eyes." 

"What for?" I asked suspiciously.

"You'll see." He answered mysteriously, pushing me into the chair. I obligingly closed my eyes, trying to peek out from under the eyelashes. 

"No peeking!" he warned, covering my eyes with his hand. I grinned, shutting them tightly. He rummaged around behind me for a moment before I felt his shadow fall over me again. "Hold out your hands." He ordered sternly. I did. I felt his lips brush a kiss on the palm of my hand before something else, something heavier, filled them. 

"Can I open them now?" I asked, tingling over his kiss. 

"Not yet…" the bed squeaked as he took a seat across from me, a smile in his voice. 

"Now?"

"No!" he laughed. "Wait until I tell you." He sat in silence for what seemed like hours. 

"What's taking so long!?" I demanded. 

"Nothing," he answered. "You just look so cute, sitting there with your eyes closed." 

"REMUS!" 

He laughed. "Alright, alright, open them. So much for romanticism." 

My eyes flew open, fingers tightening around the edge of the brightly colored envelope. It looked oddly familiar, as if I'd seen one before but couldn't remember when. "What is it?" 

"You have to open it," he explained, grinning excitedly. 

I gave him a suspicious look but eagerly lifted the flap, pulling out two heavier pieces of paper. I turned them over, trying to decipher the codes and names printed on the front. Mine on one, his on the other… Bristol stamped in the corner, as well as 11:15 a.m. 

"Wait a minute… these are… these are…" I suddenly felt very lightheaded. "Remus, these are plane tickets." 

He nodded, kneeling in front of me, pointing to the date. "It's for the Easter holidays. Bristol has a great wizarding community--Sirius found a house up there, for when Harry graduates and comes to live with him. It's in pretty bad shape right now—he wanted us to come and help him fix it up so it'll be livable by July. I've already cleared it with Dumbledore, all you have to do is say yes and it'll be set." 

I stared at him, unable to speak. A thousand replies came swarming through my mind, but I couldn't vocalize a single one. 

He laughed at my expression, hands resting lightly across my knees. "You look so startled." 

"I am!" I finally found my voice again. "Remus, this is—wow, this is…" 

"A yes?" he asked hopefully. 

"Of course!!" I nodded frantically, pulling him into a hug. "Yes, definitely!" 

"Excellent." He pulled out of my grasp and took a seat on the arm of the chair. "I've never really flown in an airplane before, but I figured, if Muggles can do it, so can I. And," he pulled me against his side, "you don't know how to ride a broom yet." 

"Very true." I stared at the plane tickets in shocked, but pleasant disbelief. Then I looked at my name again. "Why does it say Casey Lupin?" 

"Erm, yes, well," he stood up, taking the tickets from my hand and putting them back into their envelope. "A precaution I had to take… You're to be my sister for the weekend." 

"Why?" 

"Because you can't apparate, and we needed to rent a car while we're up there. They wanted the names of everyone in the party, and I doubt very much I would've been able to get one if I had said it was me and my 17 year old student." 

"Oh." I made a face. "I'll be 18 in May." 

"Will you?" he stuffed the envelope into a locked drawer of his desk. "What day?" 

"The 3rd" 

"I didn't know that." He took a seat on the bed again. "I'll be 37 April the 19th." 

"And school ends June the 9th." I sighed.

"That's a long time." His eyes met mine. 

"At least we're in it together." I answered softly.


	17. Default Chapter Title

_Hey hey hey! Four more and counting… HEYYY! Mary drew me some rockin' pictures! Go see 'em! [http://www.geocities.com/professor_remus/nbc_art][1] {hahaha, shameless promotion} chars copyrighted by the one and only JKR. _

# Chapter 38: February

I returned to the Common Room just before the onslaught of victorious Gryffindors. 

"We clobbered 'em! 230 to 60!!" Ron cried out, dancing happily. I smiled for his benefit, and waited anxiously for the answer to my request. But true to his word, Neville brought Hermione and Harry over to me after the game and explained what I had said. Hermione understood my anger policy (being a fellow female), and even though Harry was as perplexed as Neville, he did apologize again. 

"So we're on the same level again? No more sneaking behind each other's backs?" I asked. 

"As long as I have no reason to." Harry answered back grimly, shaking my hand. 

"Of course not," Hermione added, giving me a quick hug. "I'm just glad you're not angry at me anymore." 

January's snows melted into February's slushy grey puddles. Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin on the second Saturday of the month, but it was also the night after the full moon, and Remus, apologetically, asked if I minded too much if he was alone that day. 

"Go have fun. Get some fresh air." He said weakly after the Friday DADA class. "I'll see you at dinner tomorrow night, if not breakfast Sunday morning." 

"Do you want me to just stop by and say hello? Even for a moment?" 

"Casey, if you stopped by to say hello, I can guarantee you I'd keep you there longer than a moment," He smiled faintly. 

I blushed bright red, mumbling a goodbye to him as I hurried upstairs. Even now, two months later, I still blushed over the way his beautiful eyes had a habit of locking with mine. 

Valentine's Day was rapidly approaching, and from the worried looks people gave their crushes whenever "Singing Valentines" were mentioned, it wasn't as looked forward to by some as it was for me. It fell on a Thursday, meaning the only chance I would get to give Remus his card would be an accidental meeting in the halls, or during a meal. And since the whole school was present for the meals, I figured that one was ruled out. 

Classes had ended, and I still had the poem I had written tucked into my bookbag, waiting for my chance to pass it to him. I was leaning against the wall of the class hall, distractedly chewing my lip as I watched people getting beaten down by surly elves trying to read valentine greetings, trying to think of something to do. Harry and Hermione had stuck to traditional, paper valentines for each other, as I had, but Ron (under the advice of Fred and George, I suspected) had hired out one of the burliest elves to deliver his valentines. Mine had come in Potions, evoking the wraith and fury of Snape, who had kicked him in the rear, which prompted the elf to spear Snape with the end of his Cupid's Bow, which resulted in a stern reprimand from McGonagall about having elves deliver messages during class periods. 

I started walking back towards the Common Room, sidestepping a fallen student who was being sat on by an irate elf, reciting his valentine. I was at a loss for ideas until I reached the stairs. The door to the great hall was slightly open, revealing the tables, already set for the dinner that would start in another few minutes. Suddenly struck with inspiration, I double checked to make sure no one was watching me and snuck inside. The Head Table loomed ahead of me, seemingly miles away as my footsteps echoed in the silent hall. Remus always sat on the end—I think to keep Snape from having a chance to sit next to him and berate him, as he so often did. Praying he didn't suddenly change his seating habits, I stuck my folded poem into the card and shoved them both under the plate at the end, moving it slightly to cover the edge of the paper, and hurried back out, feeling proud I had thought of something so ingenious. 

Luckily for me, he did sit there that night. He gave me a slight panic when he didn't show up for the first ten minutes of dinner, but no one took his seat, and when he finally hurried in, he sank down with a nervous smile for Professor Sprout, who was, no doubt, asking him where he had been. It took a moment for him to look my way, and when he did, I had my moment to shine. 

Unfortunately, I had never mastered the art of charades, and my pantomiming "look under your plate" fell on blind eyes. After the third time I had tried to motion him to check under his plate, I finally sighed in frustration, lifted my plate (chock full o' good food) and jabbed a finger on the table cloth. Everyone at the table stared at me. I dropped my plate back down and started eating, as if checking under it was an everyday occurrence for me. 

"What're you doing?" Ron asked, fork halfway to his mouth. 

"Checking to see if I won anything." I muttered, noticing Remus trying to look under his own plate without looking conspicuous.

Neville, face alight at the prospect of a prize, lifted his plate up, too. "How do you tell if you've won?" he asked me curiously. 

"You'd know." 

"Oh." His face fell. "I suppose that means I've lost." 

"Better luck next time, Neville," Ron said cheerfully, resuming his eating. 

Valentine delivered, yet none received in return, I trudged upstairs feeling slightly put out. After all that trouble to get him his, and he hadn't even given me a little candy heart, like Ginny, Ron's little sister, was handing out. They were like the hard American hearts I was accustomed to, with the words on them. Only these ones started talking when you tried to eat them. Very unsettling, yet nevertheless amusing. 

I was the first one back to the Common Room, and when I crawled through the portrait hole, I almost turned back around and left again. A very irked elf sat there, arms crossed, waiting for it's unsuspecting victim to arrive. He shot me a ferocious look before resuming his post at the entrance, eyes boring a hole into the back of the portrait. I hurried away very quickly. 

I had one foot on the stairs leading to the dormitory when something glittery caught my eye. Stooping down, I saw it was a tiny Starlight. Starlights, we had learned in Herbology, were enchanted plants that glowed and glittered when they were picked, making them one of the most sought-after flowers for special occasions, including but not limited to, weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries. 

Intrigued, I picked up the tiny flower in my hand, marveling at the delicate beauty and iridescent petals. Much to my surprise, a small slip of parchment was tied to the stem, bearing the word _stars_. Confused, I turned to look up the stairs. A path could be seen, glittering in the semi-gloomy shadows, leading up towards the bedrooms. I followed it slowly, picking each stem up (complete with another slip of parchment and another word) before moving to the next one, my fist nearly full with shimmering blooms before the trail stopped abruptly. Disappointed, I straightened, coming face to face with an all-too familiar door. The little golden plaque on the front, reflecting the glow from the Starlights, proclaimed it to be Seventh Years---my room. 

Apprehensive, and slightly excited, I pushed open the door and peered inside. The moon, still half full, was glowing in through the window, casting a surreal glow on the five beds that stood, silent and empty, curtains drawn around each. 

"So much for that idea," I sighed, looking for any tell-tale signs that the bearer of the Starlights had left anything else behind. I shrugged. "Ah well. Still got some cool flowers. And a cryptic message. So not a total loss." 

I walked to my bed, looking through the tiny words, trying to decide how to go about deciphering them. I yanked open the curtain to the bed, so preoccupied with trying to find a name to figure out who they were for (or from), it took several seconds for me to register what was hidden behind those curtains. When my eyes finally lifted to the bedspread, I had to do a double-take before I could believe what I was seeing. One more Starlight, bearing the word _you_ on it's parchment, was sitting atop a bright red bow. Under the bow was a book of Monet paintings. With trembling hands, I flipped the cover, eyes skimming the inscription: 

_I realize a book of paintings isn't quite romantic, but I thought you'd enjoy it more than the flowers—they'll only last a few days. This will last forever. _

_I remain yours; _

_Remus_

I bit down on my lip, heart beating wildly at the sentiment as I reread his words. And I had thought he'd forgotten to get me something. Now I felt guilty about not getting him something better than a crappy poem and hand-drawn card.

I closed the book and set it on my bedside table, next to _Art Through the Ages_, spreading the bright Starlights out on the bedspread in front of me. I could hear people coming back in downstairs, but no one climbed the stairs, leaving me free to solve the mysterious message. As I studied the flowers, I began seeing a pattern. The stems were all different sizes, from long to short. Moving them into a line, the message jumped out at me. 

_If I could give you the stars I wouldn't hesitate to. Unfortunately, you'll have to settle for these instead._

"AWWWW!" I couldn't help but say it out loud, cheeks flushing at the sweet sentiment. I grinned like an idiot, gathering the flowers into one hand and looking for something to store them in. I found an empty butterbeer bottle from the last time I had gone to Hogsmeade (only slightly sticky) and filled it with water, making sure I removed all the parchment before displaying it proudly on my bedside table. 

When the other girls came up to go to sleep, they all shot jealous looks towards the glittering Starlights. 

"Where'd you get those?" Hermione asked, brushing her hair as she sat on her bed. 

"I hear they're extremely rare," Parvati added. 

"They're from a secret admirer," I answered back. I only felt slightly guilty about that one—Remus and I were a secret, and he did admire me…somewhat. 

"Oh, how cute!" Parvati giggled. "I had a secret admirer once---only they sent me Talking Hearts instead of Starlights." 

We all laughed for the appropriate amount of time before crawling into bed. Halfway through the night, I had to open my curtain just enough to let the shimmering light glow on my face as I slept. 

The next morning at breakfast, I flashed a dazzling smile at my professor as I took my seat. He didn't return it. Instead, all I received from him was a troubled, narrowed-eyed disappointment. 

Perplexed, I stared down at my plate. What would make him look at me like that? An expression of such grim silence was so uncharacteristic of Remus, I knew it had to be something extremely horrible. 

_Maybe he didn't like the poem_, I thought wildly. Then I had to think of a new reason. I mean, sure, the poem was cheesy and sentimental, but it couldn't have been that bad. Right? 

Morning classes seemed to drag for an eternity as I pondered and reasoned. I barely even noticed what I ate for lunch, and as soon as it had disappeared from my plate, I decided to use my extra hour before DADA to ask Remus what was wrong. 

"Remus? Are you in here?" I peered around the open doorway, searching for any sign of his brown hair. I stepped into the empty classroom, noticing his briefcase was on his desk, papers stacked neatly beside it, but no Remus. 

I got a bout of the chills and wrapped my arms around myself, closing my eyes briefly. 

"Casey." 

I jumped, whirling to see him walking through the doorway. "Remus—you scared me." 

He offered me the faintest hint of a smile as he passed me on his way to the desk. "Do you need something?" 

I stared at him. Since when did I need something for an excuse to see him!?

"Erm…well…" I stepped closer to his desk. "I wanted to say thank you. For the flowers. And the book," I hurried on. "They were beautiful." 

"You're welcome." He took a seat. 

I waited for him to comment on the card I had spent many late hours laboriously coloring for him. Or at least wrinkle his nose and tell me how horrible my rhyme scheme had been. But he was looking through papers, writing grades down. 

I cleared my throat. He looked up briefly. "Yes, Casey?" 

"Aren't you going to say anything about the card? Or the poem?" I asked, slightly wounded. "I mean, I realize they're not as spectacular as a book or rare flowers, but still… I put a lot of work into them." 

"I'd comment on them if I had been given them." His voice had a hard, even edge to it. His fingers tightened around his pen. 

"What're you talking about! I gave them to you last night! At dinner!" 

"I don't recall you ever handing me anything last night, least of all at dinnertime." 

"They were under your plate! Y'know, me lifting my plate up and poking the table!? _Looking under the plate_… I thought you'd caught on." 

"Why'd you put it under my plate!?" 

"So you'd see them at dinner… how else was I going to get them to you!?" I asked angrily, not liking the look he was giving me. 

"Casey, you didn't honestly believe you could hide something under a plate and not have someone see it!?" 

"Who would've seen it? I watched the table—no one sat in your seat the whole time you were gone!" 

"Don't you realize-" he began, but stopped, putting a hand to his forehead. "Alright. What was on the card?" 

"It was just a card…" 

"Casey, what was on it!?" 

"It just said Happy Valentine's Day!" I said defensively. "You don't have to get so angry!" 

"On the inside?" 

"I wrote a poem for you." 

"What was in the poem?" 

"Why does it matter!?" I flushed. "It was just a stupid poem." 

"Casey, this is important… Did you write either of our names on the card? Or in the poem!?" 

"Well….no… I don't remember!" 

He was standing, hands grabbing my shoulders roughly, shaking me. "Think! Did it have our names on it!" 

"I signed my name at the end," I whispered, feeling my throat tighten as tears threatened over his wild outburst. 

"And mine!?" 

"No… It didn't have your name on it." I managed to whimper, my eyes betraying my sudden shame over what I had believed to have been a sweet gesture.

He released my shoulders, eyes focused on my crying face. I rubbed the sore area he had grasped, trying to keep myself from sobbing. 

"Casey, I…" the wild anger had left his face, leaving a guilty, remorseful pain. 

"I'm sorry," I cried, wiping the back of my hand across my cheek. "I messed up." 

"No, no…" He had his arms around me in an instant, rocking me slowly as I bawled into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell…" 

"I didn't know how else you'd get it!" I sobbed. 

"Shhh, shhhh… it's alright, Casey. We'll find them. Don't worry." 

"What if someone else found them, and-" I gasped for breath, "starts getting suspicious!? You'll be wandering the streets again without a job and it'll be all my fault!" 

"Don't say that…" he smoothed down my hair. "I'm sure they just got taken back down to the kitchens when the food was sent up. Don't worry." 

"I'm sorry!" 

He hugged me tighter, murmuring encouraging words in my ear while I tried to halt my tears. "I'm sorry I lost my temper… I know you didn't mean to do anything… I've had a lot on my mind lately---this just came at the wrong time…" 

"What if Snape finds it!?" 

He said nothing, but he tightened his arms around me. I knew he was thinking the same thing, or something along those lines. 

"I'll just go down to the kitchens and ask the House Elves if they've seen it," he said finally, pulling away. 

"I just wanted to make sure you got it on Valentine's Day," I whispered, running a hand across my cheeks. "I didn't mean for this to happen." 

"I know," He cupped my face in his hands and kissed the top of my nose. "I know." 

"A_hem_." 

We flew apart, turning to see Professor Flitwick standing in the doorway, an unreadable look on his face as he stared at us. 

"Erm… this isn't what it…looks like…" Remus put a hand on the back of his neck guiltily. 

"I don't need to hear any explanations, Remus." Flitwick held up his hand to stop Remus' words. "I just came to return your book." He held the book out. 

Remus took it shakily. 

"And I'll ask that you please come to my office for…_tea_…after your class, Professor." His eyes, magnified by his thick glasses, bored into Remus'. 

Remus nodded slightly, and he turned and left as quietly as he had entered. Remus covered his eyes with a hand, shoulders slumping forward. 

"I knew our luck wasn't going to hold out…" 

"He won't tell anyone, will he?" I asked, biting my lip in anxious fear. 

"I don't know. He's a close friend, but he's also devout teacher." He set his book on top of the graded papers with a sigh. "I better go to the kitchens before that damn card makes this day any worse than it already is." 

Hurt by the way he referred to my gift for him, I took a step back towards the door. "Then I'll see you in class." 

"Alright." 

He didn't give me a goodbye hug before I hurried to the Common Room.

   [1]: http://www.geocities.com/professor_remus/nbc_art



	18. Default Chapter Title

Righto. I have to forewarn: this gets kinda… erm… mysterious andbizarre. But it'll work out, trust me… I have ulterior motives for this chapter, muwhahahahahhaha! (ouch) At any rate, in response to 's comment, I'd love to be able to post this all at once---does anyone know a good site who'd take all 40+ chapters? I doubt ff.net would allow such a huge upload at once. I appreciate all the reviews and support. Merci. 

_Copyrighted JKR, save Casey and Remus. MINE! ALL MINE! MUWHAHAHa! (Kevin McDonald: …evil…)_

Chapter thirty-nine: The Noble Crusader & Other Premonitions

Class was agony that day. Not being able to know if he had secured the Valentine, not being able to look at him for reassurance because of the grim line his jaw remained locked in for the entire class period… I couldn't even give a half-hearted answer to Harry's inquiry on my moodiness. 

"Bad day." I muttered. 

"That's odd—you seemed fine before lunch." 

"That was over two hours ago—a lot can happen in two hours." 

He gave me a piercing look before turning his head back to Remus, who was teaching in an indifferent manner, completely unlike him. I forced myself to try to look more perky to keep Harry from connecting both our foul dispositions. 

"For homework, please do the questions at the end of chapter 42," Remus called out as the bell finally pierced through the cold classroom. 

I tried to take as much time as possible to gather my books, finding a way to stall and have a moment to ask him if he found the card, but Harry kept prodding me to hurry, and Remus had disappeared into the back of the class, where a small office was set up. 

Biting my lip in troubled worry, I finally allowed Harry to half-drag me out the door, wishing Remus would at least give me a look to either confirm or dispel my fears. But his back was kept to us both as we left, and I had only myself to comfort the growing, nagging anxiety that began seeping through my veins. 

"So, Remus… would you care to explain to me just what the heck you were doing kissing a student of yours?" 

"Well, y'see, it's like this-" 

"Do you realize how inappropriate this behavior is! ?" 

"Will you let me explain-"

It went on and on, Flitwick railing Remus with question after question, more and more people entering into the tiny office. In an instant, the warm, somewhat cozy office had transformed into a dark courtroom, him and his fellow teachers taking their places in towering benches while Remus, small and illuminated by a single light bulb, was growing weaker and weaker in his denial. Snape was standing, a sneer of cruel victory curling his lip as he unrolled a hundred foot long roll of parchment. It rolled down from his towering bench and rolled into the darkness. "We the teachers of the Established School known as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry do hereby find the perpetrator, Remus J. Lupin, guilty of indecent relations with his underaged student, Casey Franklin. You have been witnessed, on several accounts, of inappropriate conduct, as per the witness' reports."

Harry came out from the surrounding blackness, hands folded over his chest. Hermione was close behind. 

"You fool," Harry shook his head, looking at Remus contemptuously. "Did you honestly believe you would get away with this?" 

"I knew it! I knew it all along!" Hermione cried out shrilly. "How could you!?" 

Remus, shoulders slumped, his head hanging low.

"Indecent! Inappropriate! Scandalous!!" voices began calling, filling the echoing chamber with their accusations. 

"Your sentence," Snape yelled loudly, not bothering to hide his total ecstasy at finally winning over Remus. "Your sentence—the removal of your belongings from this school. You have been turned out, sir, and don't let the door hit your pathetic ass on the way out ." 

"I-" Remus tried to speak, his worst fears taken form. 

"SILENCE, you miserable wretch! Abusage of your social standing! Misconduct with a student twice your age! Back to the woods and forests, living as the savage animal you are, werewolf!" Snape hissed. 

"I lo-"

"NO MORE!" Snape waved a hand and a heavy darkness fell on Lupin, shadows binding his mouth and his hands. He struggled against their power, eyes flashing with a fire never seen in his placid, easy-going features. 

"Remove that animal from this courtroom! Your sentence has been passed! Your eternal sentence is the only one you have hopes of changing now." 

Remus was being dragged towards the wallowing blackness by two bulky men, both wearing grim looks of duty as they fought with his struggling limbs. 

His eyes looked skyward, seemingly pleading for help, forgiveness, or another, higher aid. Dumbledore was standing at the edge of the courtroom, his own eyes trained on Remus. For a brief moment, they looked directly at one another, and with a slight nod of Dumbledore's head, communicated without words. It was all Remus needed. 

Wrenching free from his captor's grip, he ripped at the heavy black cloth around his mouth, his voice piercing through the evildarkness like Excalibur in Arthur's hands.

"I LOVE HER!" 

Words ripped from his heart, his eyes shone with the fear at consequence for his actions. But underneath that fear shone the sparks of something else. Pride. Truth. And strength. Shoulders thrown back, head held high, he took laborious breath after laborious breath, fighting to calm his shaking body, eyes locked in defiance with Snape's. 

"You have been sentenced-" 

"I love her," he repeated, taking a step to Snape. "I love her, and I'll love her even if you throw me halfway across the world. I'll find her. And I'll fight to have her back. Nothing you can ever do, or say, or sentence, or punish will ever change that. You can't kill that love. You can't stamp it out of me, kick it out of me, sentence it out of me. And you know it. And that's what's killing you." 

Snape took an uncertain step backwards as Remus advanced on him, eyes keeping steady with his. "Silence, werewolf!" 

"You hid behind your evil smirks, your pious, self-righteous mask of hatred. But you know I've won. I always have, and this is no exception. You can't beat me. You can't kill me. And you can't keep me from loving Casey. Now, tomorrow, or ten years in the future. You've lost, Snape. You've lost." He was inches from Snape, his previous look of anguished misery replaced with a aura or nobility and air of conviction. 

Snape's face twisted into a mask of fury, as howls of pain could be heard from around him. The murky blackness had begun seeping closer and closer to the center of the room, taking the rows of judges with it. Snape turned a circle, mouth dropping open in terror as he watched the darkness coming closer and closer. He turned to Remus, eyes flashing with hatred. 

"I'll get you, werewolf. In one way or another. All this has done is buy you time. Sooner or later, you'll be the one accepting defeat." 

Remus stood his ground, eyes narrowed. 

"Not if I have anything to do with it." I finally found my voice, both men turning to look at me. I stepped out from the shadows and took Remus' hand in mine. His fingers tightened on mine reassuringly, both of us glaring at Snape. 

"_You_," his lips curled into a snarl, eyes burning."You speak like a noble crusader, American. But when the time comes, will you have the courage to look at your opposing enemies with as much bravery and flashing defiance as you do to me now?" 

"I'll fight as much as I have to for this." I answered softly. 

"And I have no plans of letting her fight it alone," Remus said from beside me. 

"Two fools. So blinded by _love_ they can't even see the truth in front of them." 

Snape's eyes burned with fire as he was slowly reclaimed to the same darkness that had taken his supporters and convectors. Remus held my hand tighter until the cold blue eyes had gone completely, leaving us in a room of blackness. He turned to me, cupping my face in his hands. 

"Casey…" 

"What's happening to us, Remus?" 

"They don't understand. All they see is a 36 year old man—_teacher_—and a 17 year old student." 

"I'll make them understand." I leaned my cheek onto his shirt, my hands resting on his chest. "I don't know how, but I will." 

His arms pulled me closer, his lips pressed against the top of my head. "_We_ will," he corrected. "The two of us." 

"She's not dead, is she!?" 

I felt something poke my arm and groaned, fighting to open my eyes. 

"Guess that's a no." 

I blinked Ron's face into focus, seeing Harry and Hermione anxiously peering over his shoulder to watch me waking up. 

"What time is it?" I asked groggily, pushing hair off my face and trying to accustom myself to the bright lights. 

"It's 7 o' clock." Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Did I really sleep that long?" 

"You drooled on your homework," Hermione said helpfully, pointing at the smeared ink on my Astronomy essay. I put a hand on my forehead. 

"I had the most….bizarre dream…" 

"Less talking, more walking!" Ron said impatiently, pulling me to a stand. "Dinnertime! EAT! Food! Hungry!" he made hungry noises and jabbed a finger towards his mouth to demonstrate. 

"What was your dream about?" Harry asked, falling into step beside me. "You were talking." 

"Was I? What did I say?" 

"Well…can't be sure…but it certainly sounded like you weren't having a pleasant time." 

"It was so dark… all these people, hating Re-" I stopped myself halfway, hurrying to correct it. "Re-ooon. Ron! Ron was on trial for being… for believing… that he was right, and no one would listen. No one cared. All they cared about was how to punish him." 

"Ron? Believing what?" 

"I don't remember," I lied. "All I know is… it was so vivid. And graphic." 

"Maybe you should check it out with Professor Trelawney," Ron joked. "She seems to understand dreams pretty well." 

Hermione smacked him and berated him for even joking about that "insufferable women" having any real powers, least of all the ability to comprehend dreams from other people.

But it did give me an idea. Crazy as she was, (perhaps eccentric was a better word), she did seem to be able to predict some things. Like when Neville was about to do something clumsy. Or when Harry was going to die. And, in reality, we're all going to die sooner or later. So she can't be too far off on that prediction. Just a matter of time, really, when it kicks in. 

Dinner was very irksome. Remus had his eyes trained on his plate for the majority of the evening, but Professor Flitwick seemed bubbly and talkative enough as he engaged in several conversations with his surrounding seatmates. He certainly didn't seem to be burning with some horrid secret he was dying to expose. He did glance at Remus, and even me, on several occasions, but he had a constant smile on his face, making it near impossible to guess what was going on behind it. 

Dinner done, dishes cleared (making me even more miserable when I remembered our entire world had been dumped upside-down just yesterday at dinner) I nearly broke into a run out the Great Hall. 

"Be back soon!" I called out to my puzzled comrades, taking steps two at a time as I hurtled my way to the North Tower and Professor Trelawney. Even if she couldn't help me understand what my dream meant, maybe she'd be able to see me in the arms of a tall and very handsome man in her crystal ball.


	19. Default Chapter Title

_This one is quite long… (7 pages!) and it jumps around a lot. I apologize, but I'm trying to hurry this up a bit. And it gets a little more risqué near the end (but still maintains a PG-13 rating!) but life needs a little spice from time to time, n'est-ce pas? Hope ya like it. Copyrighted JKR, save casey (and the irate taxi driver)_

# Chapter Forty: Easier Said Than Done

"Casey. My dear. I knew you'd come to see me." Trelawney reached out her bejangled arms in a welcome gesture, waving me into her cloudy room. I tried to fight back the urge to cough as the smell of incense hit me full-brunt. 

"I don't mean to intrude, Professor… But I need help." 

"Of course…. You came to seek my professional help as a Seer, did you not? To show you the way? The path?" 

"Ah….yes… something to that effect." I took her offered seat and put my hands together on my knees. "I've been having strange dreams… For about two months or so… And I was wondering-_hoping_-that you'd be able to help me understand them." 

"You sought me out for my help, yes…." She sighed dreamily, eyes half closed as she leaned back in her chair, hair flowing wildly. "It's difficult, being the only one able to help you, Casey… But I will see what I can do." 

So I spilled out my dreams, starting from the Tom Riddle dream to several I'd had since then, ending with the courtroom. Names had been omitted in many places, to protect those who needed it, and others remained the same. Like Snape. I had a horrid feeling that he needed to be exactly who he was in my dream. 

"And who was this man who stood trial?" She pressed, after I had finished. 

"I…. I don't know his name…" 

"Yes you do." Her watery eyes pierced through mine. 

"Does it even matter? I just need to know… what does this all mean!?" 

"Dreams mean many things." 

"A little more specific would be nice," I said, exasperated. 

"Perhaps if I knew the names of all parties present in these dreams? You're hiding something from me, and I'd appreciate having all information to interpret from." 

I held in a sigh. "His name is Jonas." Not exactly a lie. During one of our few hours alone together, we had confessed middle names to each other. 

"Jonas." Her voice held a tone of disbelief, but she didn't press it further. A hand to her head, she closed her eyes and began murmuring to herself. 

"Yes…. I see a great many things…." 

"Such as?" I was 100% with Hermione on how melodramatic Trelawney was, but I needed someone's opinion, and she was my best bet. I had to remind myself that several times as she spoke several wispy, non-helpful pearls of wisdom. 

"The way is murky, Casey. But passable." She finally removed the hand from her eyes. "Death looms on the horizon, but for whom, I cannot be certain." 

"Is Harry going to die?" I guessed, rolling my eyes. She didn't miss the gesture. 

"I very highly doubt your in any position to mock me, my dear Miss Franklin." 

"Sorry." I lowered my head humbly and waited for her to continue. 

"You're planning a trip?" 

"Yes… In April." 

"It is my advice that you do not go. Trouble will follow." 

"But I-" I stopped, not wanting to argue. "Alright. What else?" 

"These dreams of Tom Riddle—have you spoken with anyone but me of them?" 

"Well… not really… not specifics." I answered slowly. 

"I advise you to seek the opinion of our DADA teacher—and Professor Dumbledore immediately. Those are too clear to be reckoned with. These others, these battles for beliefs, they're more cloudy to comprehend." 

"I see." I nodded wisely. "Well… is that it, then?" 

"Heed me, Casey---I have powers beyond mortal comprehension! It would not do for you to disregard my warnings!" 

"Yes, ma'am." I obligingly agreed, standing. "And it's most appreciated." 

As I made my way towards the trapdoor that would lead me back into the real, fresh air filled world, her voice made me stop. 

"A decision will be made tonight, Casey. One that may have some impact on your dreams." 

I turned to stare at her wide eyes, trying to read between her words at the implication. 

"Will it be a good decision?" I asked hopefully. 

"A major one." She answered mysteriously. "Time alone will tell in what mood it arrives." 

I held in a frustrated sigh and climbed out of the tower. What a waste---I knew nothing more now than I did before, other than burning two dozen sticks of sandalwood incense at one time had the most deliriously fuzzy effect on your mind. I ran into the wall several times as I tried to blink the smoky residue from my mind. A decision made tonight? Yea---to never ask Professor Trelawney for help ever again. 

"99 fuzzy pink bunnies in the field, 99 fuzzy pink bunnies…" I sang softly to myself, finally resorting to keeping a hand pressed against the wall to keep it at a safe distance from my already bruised torso. 

"I rather liked your other one better," a kind voice said, snapping me back into focus. "Y'know, '99 ways to kill Snape without guilt, 99 ways to kill Snape…" 

A faint smile crossed my lips. "Yes, but I always seem to get stuck at number 85. Only so many different ways to do it, you have to realize." 

"I understand." He returned my smile, falling into step beside me. "I saw you running up here, after dinner. I've been hanging around, waiting for you to come out—hoping to run into you." He steadied me as I stumbled over a raised step. "And I meant that literally." 

"I think we should perform an inquiry into Professor Trelaweny's supply closet," I explained distractedly. "No way that stuff is natural." But I felt myself blush with the knowledge of him, waiting, hoping to see me. 

"I think you've just had too much in too little time." He didn't take his hand off my arm. "What were you doing, anyway?" 

"Brushing up on dream interpretation." I blinked. 

"Oh? Another Tom Riddle dream?" His light tone couldn't hide the slight apprehension in his eyes. 

"No. I dreamt about you." 

"So it was the best dream you've ever had?" He grinned suavely, pretending to rake back his hair. 

"It was a nightmare." 

His smile vanished. "I haven't been that upsetting, have I?" 

I started to shake my head, but it reminded me. "Did you get th-" 

"Card?" He finished. "Yes. It was in the kitchen. And I have to apologize most humbly for my behavior this morning…" 

"It was my fault," I cut in hurriedly. "I didn't think about what might have happened-" 

"And then with the whole Professor Flitwick thing-" 

"How did that go, anyway? Will he tell?" 

His face was serious as we stopped walking, turning to face each other fully. He took my hands in his and looked straight into my eyes, not hiding any of the passing emotions flickering in his hazel ones. "He says he's suspected something—but nothing along the lines he's discovered. And although he does not approve, or condone us, he has agreed, unless necessary, to remain silent. Don't ask, don't tell." 

"So we're safe?" 

"For the time being. He won't lie for us, if it comes to it. But he won't go out of his way to give us trouble, either." 

"We'll just have to make sure we don't give anyone reason to ask him questions." I concluded. 

"Right. Easier said than done." He sighed, and I was alarmed to see how weary he looked. 

"Remus?" 

He raised an eyebrow, waiting. 

"Do you regret Christmas Eve? Honestly---I know I've given you more trouble, and more risk than you need, and I was going to say that, if you didn't want to have to hide like this, I would completely understand-" 

"What are you saying?" 

"I'm saying, I'll understand if you don't want to do this anymore." Head lowered, I stared at his fingers as they clutched at mine tightly, knuckles white with strain. 

"I can't believe you just said that to me," his voice was low, husky, and sounded forced. 

I flushed, unable to look at him. "All I meant was-" 

"After all of this? And you stand there and tell me you'd understand if I wanted out?" 

"I only meant---Ever since Christmas, you've had to be so careful---so much is at risk for you. Your job, your life, your reputation-" 

"Casey." His voice commanded my attention, and I looked up at him fearfully. "Don't you think I'd have had enough sense to tell you I wanted out long ago, had that been the case? I may not be what you had expected, and I apologize for disappointing you, but I can assure you, this is exactly what I had expected, and planned for. I knew this would come with consequences---and I readily agreed to them. I can't speak for you, however…" 

"I wouldn't change this for anything," I answered, eyes wide. "I just wanted you to know, I realize how much is at stake-" 

"I do, too, Casey." 

"…and what might happen-" 

"As long as I still have you to make me laugh, who needs a job?" he joked. 

"-and I wanted to say-" 

He put a finger to my lips, silencing my worries. "Stop thinking so much." 

"I can't help it," I whispered softly, feeling my eyes water as I started listing consequences in my head again. So many, with such great cost---it was enough to give someone an ulcer. 

"You're thinking!" 

"I can't stop it!!" I cried out helplessly. "Every time I see you, all I can think of is 'what if we get caught?'. 'what if he gets fired, then what?'. It drives me crazy." 

"Funny…every time I see you, all I can think of is this." His lips met mine softly, making all coherent thoughts fly from my mind. "Drives me crazy," he whispered, rubbing his nose against mine. Then our lips found each other again, and for the first time that day, I managed to forget my lists and nagging thoughts and let myself be carried away on the sweet hope of our dreams. 

And the decision which had come in a decidedly very good mood. 

March passed uneventfully, except to bring the Easter holidays closer and closer, as well as mounting apprehension. My dreams were few and frequent, but still present. Ron was, apparently, in love with his soul-mate… A sixth year Gryffindor named Ursula. (she had yet to return the affection, poor guy) Harry had slowly managed to back off his desire for us to have any kind of relationship, and had suddenly realized how beautiful Hermione really was. Which left me to my own endeavors, quite suitable to my tastes. No more inquiries about late night wandering, or why I would appear in ten times better health after a Sunday stroll in the garden---all was forsaken about my activities in pursuit of their own. Spring was definitely bringing a change of atmosphere with it. And to each member of our small circle, they were all greatly welcomed. 

The first week of April, I had a bad attack of the nerves. Professor Trelawney's misty-eyed prediction from February had been brushed aside, and I had planned the trip with Remus (usually as we sat together in his armchair, a book open on my knees, forsaken in the face of "what we wanted to do and see while we're there") without reflecting on it at all. But that first Saturday of April, only six days before we were to leave, I realized I hadn't told anyone I was going to be gone. 

"Where're you going!?" Harry asked, puzzled. 

"The Malfoys want me to go with them to Orrington," I lied. In truth, they had told me of their plans for the Easter holidays, but had expressly written their utmost apologies but seeing how they had such limited space, "it would truly be impossible for you to join us." 

"Ugh. A week with the Malfoys. What fun." Hermione made a face. 

"Well… It won't be so bad. I'll see something besides these school walls." I gestured at the surrounding walls, making a face. 

"Bring us back a postcard, right?" 

"Of course." 

Friday night before I was to leave, I was a wreak. "What if I forget something?" I fretted, looking at my strewn-about clothes and half-packed trunk. 

"Just send us an owl." Hermione shrugged, barely looking up from her novel. "No big deal. It's only a week." 

"But you don't realize how important this week is for me," I muttered. 

"A week with the Malfoys? Important? Ha!" she gave me a scathing look. 

I chose to ignore her. 

Saturday morning was going to be hard to work. I had to appear to leave with Draco (evil little punk), using the excuse "I wanted to see Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius at the train station" to explain why I was tagging along. So a long trip on the Hogwarts Express to Kings Cross Station, pretend to say goodbye, wait for them to leave the platform, then follow behind. And then I would wait for Remus to come get me, and take me to the airport. No biggie. Well… as long as I managed to keep my excitement from pouring into every little action I did. Even pouring orange juice at breakfast that morning, I had a grin on my face, my hand unsteady.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked, toast half-way to his mouth. 

"Just excited!" I answered cheerfully, grinning madly. 

"Right…" he shrugged. 

Glancing to the Head Table, I saw Remus, eyes meeting with mine, and felt my grin grow even wider, if it was humanly possible. 

"You sure are happy to be spending the hols with Draco." Harry commented. 

"You have no idea how long I've looked forward to this," was my daft answer. 

"Obviously." 

Nothing more was said. 

"BYE! Have a great trip!!!! See ya in June! BYE!" I cried out, waving madly as the Malfoys, edging away with looks of complete horror at my display, took leave at Kings Cross. I waited as they, along with several other vacation-taking students, disappeared through the barrier before I allowed myself to follow suit. I had been given explicit directions to meet Remus in front of the station at a particular spot (he had taken my trunk with him somehow) and wanted to ensure I had the correct place before our meeting time. 

It had been nearly 9 months since I had last seen the real, "muggle" world. I had almost forgotten how it effected me. People-watching had always been a pastime of mine, and one I resorted to in an instant. Feet tucked under me on the bench, thoughts of my upcoming week with Remus, and the distant horizon of the end of school, I let my eyes take in the hustle of busy people. All so lost in their own worlds, so bent on concentrating on what was most important to them in that one instant, completely oblivious to the world happening around them. A man, continually checking his watch, didn't even notice the taxi driver with his look-alike dog, screeching at a police man to take his no parking zone and shove it somewhere not quite pleasant. An irritated mom, dragging her little boy behind her, missed seeing the wink and wave of conspiratory friendship an old man bestowed upon her child. It amazed me, too see how much of life passed by without anyone noticing it. I couldn't help but think, much in the traditional Ferris Buhler-esque fashion, that life needed to be looked at once in awhile. Something all those people needed to do. 

"Hey beautiful." 

I was shaken from my gazing by Remus, dressed in muggle clothing, taking a seat next to me. He gave me a soft smile. "You ready?" 

I returned his smile with one of my own. "Since January."

"Well, Mi'lady?" he offered me his arm, which I happily took, as I let him lead me towards a waiting taxi (thankfully not the irate one from before). We climbed in, gave our directions, and settled back as London flew by. 

"This is so strange for me," he murmured, eyes wide as he watched out the window. "I don't think I've ever been in a taxi before." 

I picked up his hand. "Don't worry—it'll be ok." 

He shook his head at my simpering tone and said nothing. 

Within an hour, we were strapped into two airplane seats. He had, without protest, given me the window seat, as long as I let him lean over me whenever he wanted to see outside. Which wasn't very often---he fell asleep the instant we took off, missing out on his first airline ride ever. And it was over quite quickly—Bristol wasn't very far from London at all. He was slightly miffed at having missed the whole flight, but relented to a constellation prize of my sacrificing the window seat on the way back. 

Getting the rental car took a few moments, but it wasn't very long at all before we were in the car, him trying to determine how to run the vehicle, me giving him helpful pointers. 

"The big pedal is the brake, Remus." 

"Which one? This one?"   
"NOOOO!!!!!!!!! THAT'S THE GAS! Hit _that_ one! THE BRAKE! _THE BRAAAAKE!" _

I was soon behind the wheel, taking turns and corners as he directed me towards our destination. 

"Erm… Casey… I feel I need to tell you something quite important…" he began, as we turned onto our final road. 

"What's that?" I glanced over at his face curiously. 

"Well… I may have forgotten to mention a few things about this whole thing…" 

"Whaddya mean?" I was beginning to get very panicky at the sound of his voice. 

"Well… When I said we'd be staying with Sirius for the week… that was only half true." 

"Hm?" 

"Sirius won't be here until Monday." 

The car swerved as I turned my attention to him. "WHAT?" 

"I would have told you sooner, but I knew this would happen! And I was afraid you'd call the whole thing off!" 

"Remus!!" 

"He's unavoidably detained, Casey---and it's only for today and tomorrow." 

"But Remus…" 

"I swear I won't do anything inappropriate-" 

"This whole thing is inappropriate!" I cried out, red faced. "You! Me! Together! Kissing, hugging, writing notes! And now this!? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

"I didn't think you'd be this upset—" 

"Remus! Look at me-" I tore my eyes from the road and gave him an evil glare. "We've kissed in your classroom before---and that's in a school, with hundreds of other people, during broad daylight! What's going to happen when we're alone, completely safe from discovery, and without anyone to intervene or interrupt!?" 

"Nothing." He said solidly. "Absolutely nothing." 

"How can you be so sure?" 

"The house has three bedrooms, Casey---and plenty of work to do. I expect myself to be too busy during the day to even think about anything… And at night, well…" 

"Well?" I demanded. 

"I'd like to believe I have enough strength and will power to not have that be a problem at all. But if it is---simply lock the door." 

He pointed at the driveway I was to pull into, an enormous house looming into view on top of a hill. I followed the drive to the front door, jaw set in a grim line, not wanting to speak for fear of what I might say to the current turn of events. I opened my door roughly, willing myself not to slam the door.

"It's only two nights, Casey---Sirius will be here Monday." 

"I know." 

"If it makes you feel safer, I won't even look at you the whole time we're alone, alright?" he was trying to make me smile, but the joke was too weak. 

"But what's to stop me from looking at you, Remus?" 

He shut his car door, looking puzzled. "What do you mean?" 

"I'm human too, you know." 

Something unreadable crossed his face, doing battle with the concerned expression already settled in his eyes. Perhaps disbelief at someone having any kind of attraction to him, perhaps shock that I would even allude to something like that. Whatever it was, it won over, and his voice sounded unnatural when he spoke. 

"We'll just both have to be careful." 

As he had said once before, easier said than done.


	20. Default Chapter Title

Arrrrrghhhh---sorry it took a week to post this. It's Final Exam time @ school, and I was in Disney World the last three days so I didn't really have too much time for uploading. Sorry. Alack, there is no Remus Smut in this (I do apologize) because I feel I am unable to write decent smut and would therefore not do the lovely young couple justice. Sooo…. With that in mind, enjoy. One chapter left. Muwhahahahhaha. Copyrighted JKR (ps—the font is smaller because it was 9 pages in size 12….)

# Chapter Forty-One: History Repeats Itself

We entered the house in silence, neither prepared to discuss what had been implied seconds before. I couldn't even bear to glance at him, knowing that every look I gave, every thought that went through my mind was full of feeling that I shouldn't, and couldn't, let myself have. 

"I think we have our work cut out for us," he said, turning in a circle in the foyer. Despite the obvious direction his words had been aimed at (the chipping tiles and peeling wallpaper, I presumed) I couldn't help but feel the double meaning of his careless remark weigh on me.Hard. 

"Does it have running water?" I asked, voice shaky. 

"Yea---kitchen…" he trailed off, leading me through several cracking rooms and into a delipitated kitchen that looked as if it hadn't seen the clean side of a mop in over a decade. 

"Nice," I commented dryly, stepping over a rusted chair leg. The faucet was quickly put to use, and after waiting for the initial rust water to clean out, I splashed some on my face, resting my forehead on my arm as I battled to lay my tumultuous feelings to rest. 

"Are you alright?" Light concern, a hand on my back. I staggered away from him. 

"Yes, thank you." 

"Want the grand tour?" He asked, eyebrow raised. 

"Sure." 

He held out his arm, and after a moment's hesitation, I took it. 

We wandered the old house, sidestepping fallen tiles, ducking under looping ceiling papers, and making faces at the state of the bathrooms. 

When we had gone upstairs, both of our steps slowed, whether consciously or not, I didn't know. 

"Bedrooms." Remus raised a finger to point at the three rooms. I could feel him tensing next to me, and forced myself not to comment. "Pick which one you want," He released my arm and gave me a push towards them. "I'll take one that's left over." 

I peered through the doorways to each, none of them looking too inviting. All three were in a worse state than the kitchen below, and one was missing a mattress from the bed entirely. I finally settled for one at the very end—a pale blue carpet (complete with mysterious stains)and a huge window overlooking the decrepit yard. 

"This one!" I called out to Remus, who hadn't left his stand on the landing outside. I heard some acknowledgement from him, and then footsteps as he walked in. 

"This is nice," he commented, leaning against the doorframe. A large chunk of the frame broke off and he was forced to steady himself again. 

I smiled at his over-balancing act and turned to look out my window. "You can see the whole yard from here." 

He didn't answer me, but seconds later, he was next to me, eyes trained on the expanse below. I could see him thinking, but about what, I could only guess. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this, Casey." He said quietly. 

"I didn't mean to pitch such a fit, either." 

We stood, staring out the window, lost in thought. But I managed to find his hand and hold it tightly. 

He had been right about one thing: there was so much work to be done, we barely even had time to think of ourselves, let alone each other. I personally tackled the kitchen, with bathrooms next for the obvious reason of hygiene. Remus had decided to work upstairs on the bedrooms, apparently to keep distance between us—just in case. 

Sirius had already bought several things for the inside, all stored into the basement against any would be intruders, and I was ecstatic to find a CD player—complete with a CDcollection worthy of any music lover's attention. I soon had the Bare Naked Ladies blaring through the house, hair pulled back, sporting old clothes, lest they get ruined more than usual. (Salvation Army clothes can hardly be considered "new" at any point in their life, yet they remained my fashion of choice for most occasions) Remus had taught me several useful "handy-man" spells and charms to make the going easier, but some things I preferred to do muggle-style. Like repainting the cabinets. I love to paint cabinets. Don't know why—it's tedious and dull, but awfully mesmerizing. 

"I'm so cool---too bad I'm a loser," I sang softly, making a face as paint dripped down the front of my shirt.I was perched on the countertop, Indian-style, nose inches from the wood I was painting, eyes locked on the grain as I swept my paintbrush across it. Seeing the thick trail of white paint it left behind was so satisfactory. Always even strokes, making sure no one part got more paint than another. (yes, I am insane. But loveable.) 

Turning to dip the brush into the paint again, my eyes locked with Remus'. He was standing in the doorway, a strange look on his face, eyes burning into mine. I had an uneasy feeling he had been watching me for a long time. 

"Are you done upstairs?" I asked, for lack of anything else to say. 

He nodded stiffly. 

"D'you wanna help me paint?" I gestured towards the cabinets with my head, an irksome strand of hair escaping it's ponytail and falling into my eyes. I brushed it away irritably, remembering too late that I was holding a paint-dripping brush in that hand.

"You seem to be doing perfectly fine without my help." Was his deep-voiced answer. 

"How long have you been standing there?" 

"I don't know." 

"We'll have to go to the grocery store tonight if you expect to eat anything---and I can assure you, I'm depending on having dinner." 

"Alright." 

I couldn't think of anything else to say. So I simply stared at him, waiting for him to say something. 

"Do you have any idea how much this is killing me?" 

"What?" 

"Seeing you sitting there, paint on your face… wearing that shirt-" 

I looked down at my "I hate this shirt" t-shirt in confusion. Aside from a long white trail of paint, there was nothing too exciting about it. I raised my eyes to question him further, but he had closed the distance between the doorway and the countertop, and I was too startled to speak. Without a preliminary warning, he was kissing me, hands on my arms, pulling me closer as our kiss deepened. Warnings were going off a mile a minute inside my brain as we embraced, but I found I didn't have (or want) the willpower to heed them. 

Cabinets and paint forgotten, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me off the counter to my feet beside him. I had a hand on his chest, the other was pressed against the back of his neck, the feeling of wrongness overpowered by the surge of _feeling_ I had for this man. He drew apart first, his breathing shaky as his eyes tilted down to mine. 

"We shouldn't be doing this." 

"I know." 

"We'll both regret it." 

"I know that, too." I smiled softly, brushing hair from his eyes. 

"You're only 17." His voice showed the agony that was being lived in his mind. 

"Do you want this?" 

"Yes I do." 

"So do I." I fixed my eyes on the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, his whole body shaking slightly, as I waited for him to answer me. 

"Which is why we can't do this." 

Eyes lifted to his, I tried to find the source of his decision. He avoided my look. 

"Remus-" 

"I shouldn't have brought you here… Alone, like this. It's impossible." 

I couldn't find words to appeal the torment in his face, so I stood silently, feeling his heart pounding under my hand. 

"I'm sorry, Casey." He pulled me into a tight hug, lips bestowing kisses on my head in a frantic, almost apologetic manner, like he was trying to kiss away a child's boo-boo.

Within seconds, he had pulled away and disappeared into the hallway, leaving me standing in the middle of the desolate kitchen, feeling as if I had disappointed him in some way. Denied him the one thing he wanted, just because I was still—to him—a child. 

I used a spell to finish the cabinets. 

We barely spoke for the remainder of the evening. He had taken me to the local grocery store, and I had made Spaghetti-O's for dinner (for lack of culinary patience). But even that had been riddled with an uneasy, almost shamed, silence. I wanted to ask him to talk to me, to tell me anything, just to hear his voice, see his smile, or fall into his eyes… But I found I couldn't bring myself to break the heavy, oppressing silence that weighed down so heavily upon us. 

After finishing dinner, we washed the dishes (another packed-away discovery from the basement) and put away the remaining groceries. I braved several side-glances at him, only to have his eyes move away quickly, or to discover his knuckles were white with the grip he was holding the peanut butter with. 

I finally forced myself to speak. "Sirius picked a really nice house, eh?" 

Surprise at my conversation-initiation, he blinked at me. "Huh? Yes. He got it from an old wizard who wanted to move to Venice." 

"It's beautiful. Well… it will be." I blushed for no reason. 

"Yea—he got lucky. Harry'll love it." 

"Yea." 

Another uncomfortable silence. 

"Casey, I have to say this before I drive myself crazy." He set his can on the counter, hands holding tightly to the edge as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I waited curiously, macaroni and cheese boxes forgotten in my desire to hear him speak. 

"Alright, Remus. I'm listening." 

"I'm desperately in love with you. And that scares me sometimes---the way I feel. It's so_… unlikely_… for me to feel like this. And it's so overpowering, so strong… Every time I look at you, I want something I can't have. Not yet." He drew a shaky breath, raking a hand through his hair, leaving it spiked in several directions. "I'm swearing to you, right here, right now, that I will not be the one you regret for the rest of your life. I'm not going to lie to you---I love you. I would be perfectly happy to be with you for the rest of my life. But until the day that's been promised by us both, to have and to hold, till death do us part, I'm not going to pull you into anything we have the slightest chance of regretting later on. It'll take all my willpower, God help me do it, but I willnot forsake my morals or my principles, or your chances for happiness, by a middle-aged man's lustful wants." 

I stared at him, speechless. 

"I know how it sounds---but I mean it. Every word. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life, Casey. But I'm not going to turn my back on what I know is right, what I believe is right, during a moment of weakness on both our parts." His eyes finally turned to meet mine, and I was surprised to find tears in the corners of his. 

"Why are you crying?" I whispered. 

"Because I'm afraid that one day you'll realize I'm just a 36 year old man without experience in this kind of thing, who's going at it blindly and hopelessly because he has no idea how to be the man you want. Or need.And I'm scared I'll lose you." 

"I doubt that," I said weakly, bowled over by how fast this was coming at me. 

"There's only one way I can be sure I'll never lose you." 

"How-?" I began, but stopped short as he fumbled into his pocket, bringing out a small box. 

"I wanted Sirius to be here—he helped pick out the ring—but I can't wait any more. Casey, I'm asking you to marry me." He opened the box, displaying a silver band, embedded with a light blue stone in the shape of a star. 

"Remus…" I grabbed the counter to steady myself. 

"Before you answer, hear me out." He hurried on. "Because I know what you're doing right now. You're first thoughts are 'What the hell—is he serious?', followed by an argument with yourself over how serious I look, followed by an acceptance, then changed to a doubted debate over the risks involved, the chances being taken with me." The faintest hint of a smile crossed his lips, and I stared at him, amazed that he knew my thought process so well. "Before you get that far, however, I have to tell you. I know it's not going to be easy. God knows it won't be. We'll fight. We'll yell. One, or both, of us will sleep on the couch at one point or another. But that's the worst of it. The best of it is what's the worthwhile part. Your face is the last thing I want to see when I close my eyes at night—the first thing I see when I wake up. I want you to be the mother for my children. We'll watch them grow up together—first steps, first kiss, weddings, then the start of their own families. Then it'll be just the two of us, two old people, holding hands and sitting in rocking chairs on the porch of a nursing home… Reminiscing on the good old days, back when we had the whole world in front of us. And thanking the Gods above that we were lucky enough to have found one another.

"I know this is asking a lot of you. And it's unrealistic, to say the least. You'll be forty, I'll be 60. But I honestly believe that, by having your love, I won't feel a day older than you." 

Having finished, he nervously brought his eyes to mine, holding the ring out for my acceptance or refusal. 

"Wow—not bad. Did Sirius write that for you?" I joked, trying to hide how flustered I had suddenly become. 

"No, actually, I've been watching a lot of old romance movies lately," he returned, a smile dancing on his face. "Taking notes." 

"Good job," I complimented, stalling. But even that moment, when something so serious loomed on the horizon, and we were able to make jokes and smile at one another, was more than enough to convince me he was right. 

"How do you know it'll work?" I asked. "I'm pretty young---I haven't had very many boyfriends or experience before. How am I going to know you're the one I'm meant to be with? And you-" I hurried on. "You said yourself you'd never had girlfriends before. Why am I the one you want to marry, when you haven't had the chance to be with anyone else, to find out what you might be missing?" 

"Casey, I was never meant to have girlfriends, or love, or even marriage. For other people—not for me. When I found you, it was as if a door had opened for me somewhere. A door I had been too afraid, or not allowed, to open before.But I was still afraid to walk through it. But when you stayed with me, Christmas Eve. You weren't afraid of what I was. It didn't change the way you looked and me. And I knew, even if you didn't yet, that you're the only one I'm supposed to be with. The only one who's ever loved me the way I want to be loved." 

"We've only known each other for…not even a year…How can you say that when you barely know me?"

"Close your eyes." He instructed, surprisingly calm in the face of my blatant questioning. "Now. Picture yourself, waking up next to someone, ten years from now. A small child comes running into the room, pounding on a pan, wanting your attention. The man beside you wakes up to see what's going on. What does he look like?" He had his hands on mine, and I could feel him only inches from me. "What does he say to you?"

I pictured the scene, knowing the routine almost by heart. The old tried-and-true way to know if you were truly in love with someone: picturing yourself growing old with them. 

"He looks handsome… tousled… bright, sparkling eyes as he lifts up the boy and threatens to flush his head in the toilet…. Smiling at me as the boy pleas for my intervene…"I smiled warmly at the scene, Remus' hand cupping my cheek as he waited for me to finish. "He takes off to the bathroom, robe flapping, boy tucked under his arm… There's a flushing sound, a child laughing so hard he's crying.. Then the man comes back out to the bedroom, grinning at me, our son on his back as he hugs his father… The three of us simply smile and don't have to say a word—because we all know what the others are thinking anyway: How much we love them." I opened my eyes, completely dead-pan as I stared at Remus in the eye. "He looks an awful lot like Professor Snape." 

The look on his face was priceless. I laughed, throwing my arms around him. "It's you, idiot. It's always been you." 

His arms circled me happily, spinning me in the middle of the kitchen. When he set me down, our lips met with so much passioned emotion, it was a wonder we ever pulled away. 

When we headed upstairs to the bedrooms, we were still holding tightly to each other; afraid to let go, I suppose. I know I was. 

"Until tomorrow?" He asked, kissing me. His voice betrayed his neutral expression as I pulled away. He didn't like the idea of being so close, but in different rooms any more than I did. But his strong scruples wouldn't allow him to question me about the chance of sharing one bed.

"I suppose so." 

We stood in the hallway, neither wanting to leave the other's company. 

"This is hard for me to do." He admitted, laughing a little. "I don't want to let go of you." 

"I'll still be here tomorrow." I promised. 

"You're positive?" 

I lifted my left hand, the small ring twinkling in the dusky light. "Would I be wearing this if I wasn't?"

He finally released my hand. "I love you, Casey." 

"Love you back," I smiled, backing towards my room. With a final smile to him, I shut the door and leaned against it, heart racing with what had transpired in the space of a few short hours. Engaged. Engaged to the most wonderful man in the world. 

I crawled under the blanket (thanks to Sirius' boxes) and closed my eyes tightly, willing myself to sleep so I could wake up and be with Remus again. Sleep had other plans, though and decided it wasn't to be bothered with me that night. 

I spent nearly an hour, trying to keep my eyes shut, but every sound, every gale of wind had me with my eyes open, trying not to imagine what he was thinking, only a few feet down the hall. I finally sighed in frustration, throwing back the blanket and standing up. Only one way to find out. 

Walking softly (in case he was asleep) I slowly opened his door, hoping he could at least tell me goodnight one more time. But the room was dark, his soft breathing barely discernable over the creaking of the house. 

Holding my own breath, I crept to the bed, a soft smile breaking out as I watched him sleeping, mouth hanging open slightly, hair falling in his eyes. Without thinking, I had reached out to move his hair from his face, eyes focused intently on what I was doing. Halfway there, a hand had grabbed mine, pulling me back, the owner covering my mouth with his other hand against my muffled screams. 

"Shhhhhh….wouldn't want to wake anyone up, would we?" a cold voice whispered in my ear, its owner pulling me towards the doorway. "I'd hate to have to kill your beloved as well." 

Eyes wide with fear, heart pounding at how quickly my midnight visit had taken a nasty turn, I quieted immediately, willing Remus to wake up with my mind instead of my voice. Remus sighed heavily, turning on his side, but made no move to convince me my ESP was working. 

I was led down the stairs, thrust into a chair in the kitchen, and had my hands tied behind the chair with rope. My captor, covered in a black cloak and hood, said nothing, simply working quickly and silently. With only a "You even open your mouth to scream and I kill you and that werewolf upstairs" for words, I was left to my own imagination over who he was and why he was in the house. I tried to ask, but a knife was flashed, pointing dangerously close to my throat, and another snarled warning, and I remained silent there after. 

Once finished, the man stood in front of me, pacing the floor irritably, muttering under his breath. Several times he stopped, his hooded face staring at me, then he would resume his muttering and pacing. That wouldn't have been as alarming if it weren't for the knife he continually pulled from his cloak, pointed towards me, muttered, then put it away again. 

"Who are you?" 

He whirled to face me, the knife back out. "I thought I told you to be quiet!" 

"I'm just asking a question," I said back, voice faltering. 

"Just like your mother, you stupid girl. She never knew when to keep her mouth shut." 

"What do you know about my mother!?" 

"Other than the fact that she was easy to kill, nothing." He snapped. 

"She died in a car wreck, asshole." 

He laughed, a short, barking laugh. "Believe what you will, Girl." 

"I was there—they died coming for me!" 

"Yes, and a useful decoy you were, too… Brilliant. I would've had to kill them in their house had it not been for your wonderful idea. For that I thank you." His voice was chilling, with the hint of a smile as he spoke. "Much easier to be "accidental" that way." 

"What do you mean?" My heart pounded achingly. 

"I killed your mother, American! Are you honestly too dense to comprehend that!?" 

My mouth dropped open. "Snape!?" 

The hooded cloak turned his back on me. "I'm just an anonymous man, sent here for one purpose." 

"It's you, isn't it?" 

"Do you wish to be gagged!?" 

"You said you once loved her---how could you have killed her!?" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"You're a monster." 

"I'm a servant to a Lord!" He yelled, facing me again. "Bound to serve on the side of evil—I had no choice in the matter of how I served him! Now stop talking or I'll slit your throat!" 

"Why?" I asked,tears spilling down my cheeks. "Why did you kill her!? She was innocent—harmless… And needed." 

"She's dead, American… I'd start asking why for my own life, if I were you." 

"Just tell me why you killed her." 

He seemed to be debating with himself, struggling with his mission and his conscious. "She was a threat to Lord Voldemort." 

"How? She never-" 

"Just by being alive, with the chance of fighting against him. That was all the reason Voldemort needed." 

"But you, of all people!? You said once you had loved her… How could you kill her!?" 

"Love is a weakness, American—one I'm sure you've discovered." 

"And you killed her to prove you had none." My voice came out deep, hurt, and understanding. He nodded. 

"And now it's your turn. I gave you so many clues, so many hints… I tried to expel you, to keep you from becoming the woman your mother was… But like they say, you are your mother's daughter." 

"You killed my mother, thereby sending me to England with my uncle, enrolled me into Hogwarts, where I learned to be a witch. Is that not a contradiction to your mission?!"

"Voldemort's mission, American. Not mine." 

"Why not just kill me when you killed her?" 

"That had been the original plan. But you weren't in the car, as you should have been. Your plane wasn't shaken down by the storm. The Malfoy's didn't do their job correctly-" 

"Her own brother, against her?" 

"Brother!? Your mother was an only child, American. The Malfoy's aren't your relatives. Servants to Voldemort, like myself. Another roadblock, meant to deter you from arriving at Hogwarts. They failed, and have since been punished. But you arrived, in the safety of Dumbledore, where Voldemort couldn't touch you." 

"Voldemort believes me to be a threat?" 

"Yes… and if not you, then your daughter." 

"I have no-" 

"You mother married after she graduated, American. Did she tell you that?" 

"She told me was 18 when she married my father, yes-" 

"How old was he?"

"He was…" I trailed off, mind numb. "He was much older." 

"19 years older, to be exact. And a teacher. Her teacher." 

"Not just any teacher---the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Franklin." 

"History is repeating itself," I whispered, the note from _Wizard Art Through the Ages_, from Padfoot to Moony, came flashing back. 

"You may not realize it, American, but you have a greater power than most witches achieve in their entire lifetimes. You just don't know how to use it." He had taken off his hood, revealing the familiar greasy skin and hooked nose."You'll marry Remus—you already wear his ring-" he shot a nasty look to my hands, still tied behind me. "Within a month of marriage, you'll become pregnant. Nine months later, you'll be the proud mother of a baby girl.The simpering parents will, naturally, keep their daughter protected from the evils of Voldemort, keeping her in the dark… Until her parents die in a horrible accident, leaving her with no family except someone exceptionally close to The Dark Lord. If she's not killed then, and goes to school with no intelligence of how to use a wand, then she'll fulfill the destiny two generations before her were born to lead. If she's killed before then, your lineage will be laid to rest, and Voldemort will have no opposition as great as yours would have been." 

"Wha-?" it was coming too quickly. "How do you know that? I can barely keep myself awake in class---I couldn't possibly be as powerful as you say I am." 

"Tell me the ingredients of a simple blood welt potion," Snape said softly. 

"Well that's simple," I began, but stopped. 

"17 year old witches with no former training would not know the ingredients to that potion," he went on, his voice still low. "Yet you knew, first day of school, without even reading your book." 

"I looked through it-" I protested feebly. But I hadn't. 

"It's all there, American. Inside you. With the right training, right coaching… You'd have enough power to be a real threat to Voldemort. You fall asleep in class because class is, quite simply, too easy for you. It bores you. "

"You're crazy." I whispered fervently, feeling very close to panic. 

"I don't enjoy killing people," Snape said, eyes downcast to the knife in his hands. 

"Then why do it?" 

"I'm in the service of the Dark Lord. You don't refuse his orders." 

"Please don't do this…" Strangely enough, it wasn't my life I was panicked for. When he had said I would bear a daughter, I believed him. And I wanted her. With Remus.

"D'you think I want to? I've been dreading this all year. Trying to get Remus fired---you expelled. Anything to stop the inevitable from happening. But you both slipped through my fingers every time. Except now. "

"But how did you know I would be here?" 

"Draco. He told me you had said you'd be on vacation with his family, but were just going to the station to meet someone else. So I followed you." 

"You'll get caught, Snape. You'll lose your job." 

"None of that matters." 

"Please, think about what you're doing---" I trailed off, seeing him stepping closer, knife in hand. 

"Don't fight it, Casey. It was meant to be like this." His voice had taken on a surreal quality, far away and distant. I closed my eyes, bracing for the deadly blow he so easily bestowed. I didn't even register he had used my name for the first time. 

"Don't worry—it'll be over soon." Were the last words I remembered hearing before I blacked out and slumped into unconsciousness.


	21. Default Chapter Title

Chapter Forty-Two: The End of the Beginning

"And so, young men and young ladies, it is with a light heart and a fatherly pride that I send you into the world---fully learned wizards." Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, surveyed the sea of faces before him, his bright smile contradicting the sorrow and pain he was feeling inside. Every year it became harder and harder to watch his students leave. Especially this year's class, so marked by the extraordinary circumstances it had brought with it; Harry Potter, the innocence of Sirius Black, the re-hiring of Professor Lupin., the beginning of a new force against Voldemort….and the death that had befallen them all in early April. He cleared his throat, formulating a way to speak of the occasion without bringing back too many of it's painful memories. 

"And I also wish, for all of you brilliant young people, to remember the loss we suffered, and to allow it to strengthen us, not hinder us." 

Four rows back, seated in silence, Harry Potter felt himself tense. Death, no matter whom it afflicted, had a way of making one reflect on life. When he had first heard the news, his reaction had been one of overwhelming grief. Regrets, so numerous, guilt that abounded with his careless remarks and shoddy treatment of the deceased…. Everything hit him hard, giving him more than one reason to be ashamed of himself. He vowed, that very day, to live his life as if he were living for someone else. To give them the life they had been denied by the evil cruelty of Lord Voldemort. His plans, beginning that very day, included joining the rising forces to fight Voldemort---to give his best to see his defeat. 

But for some, it was too late. 

Ron Weasley was having trouble sitting still. Dumbledore's words washed over him, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for the entire school's loss. He remembered how he had found out--- sitting in the Common Room, defeated at Wizard Chess by Hermione, Harry had come bursting through the portrait, eyes wild. And as he had poured out the horrid details, the story surrounding the horrendous death, his own eyes had enlarged to saucers. Unbeleiving, he had climbed to his room, spending the entire day in his bed, refusing to speak to anyone. Death happened to other people—disconnected from his life. Nothing like this ever happened to Ron. Nothing like this was supposed to happen. Life was great. Happy. Not brutal and bloody. 

Ron lowered his head and prayed for Dumbledore to finish speaking soon. 

Hermione Granger was crying. Tears coursing down her cheeks, she felt her fellow students giving her questioning and sympathetic looks. None of them expected this kind of a reaction from her. Not from Hermione, who had professed hatred so many times, jealous contempt over a brighter, more intelligent person. But death changes all that. Death makes one realize just how _needed_ a person was---something she would never be able to learn from a book.

First hand experiences were far more effectual.

Seated behind Dumbledore, Remus Lupin found it hard to focus his eyes. Grief, overwhelming him with it's power, made it hard to keep Dumbledore's back from blurring and wavering. He found no comfort in the surrounding eyes of his fellow faculty members. No student could catch his eye and give him a reassuring nod. His only thoughts were centered around how much he wanted to change the past, to find a way to alter that night's events, give back the life that had been so brutally taken. His fault, all of it. His choices had led him to the path he was on---his decisions, stubborn refusal to see what was happening right before his eyes… all of it boiled down to one explanation: it was all because of Remus. It was because of him that the entire school was silent. Because of him, one of their ranks was missing forever. Because of him, Voldemort's powers remained unquestionable. The only ray of hope, the only solace in those thoughts, was what lay clutched in his fingers. Held so tightly, it's impression was embedded in his skin like a brand. But he refused to let go, to loosen his grip. Not until… not until they were together again. 

He was in agony. Anyone could see it. They didn't have to be connected to him to see it. Eyes downcast, knuckles white with exertion as he held tightly to something in his palm. Tense, rigid, and trembling, he resembled a small, helpless child more than the 37 year old man he was. A pathetic sight for anyone to behold, but far more painful for those who knew him. And had no way of comforting him. It was painfully obvious to anyone who cared to notice:

The death of Severus Snape had affected him more than anyone else in the assembly. 

Almost. 

Casey sat perfectly still, eyes zeroed on Remus, willing him to look at her. She didn't need to hear him say the words she felt in her heart. She knew he believed himself to be at fault for Snape's suicide. Had he been more careful, not flown her to Bristol and give him the opportunity to find them… She heard his entire line of thinking, right down to the very last regret. She heard them from him because she had heard them from herself so many times before. That night hadn't let her rest for two months. Every night she relived the terror---the blackness that had followed Snape's reassurance of it being over quickly. And when she revived, seeing him on the floor, blood puddle around his lifeless body. The knife, brought for her, but used to silence the tumultuous feelings of wrong and consciousness on himself instead, was embedded in his chest, his eyes wide and unblinking at the ceiling. He had been so right---love was a weakness. The weakness which possessed him to spare his beloved Melody's daughter's life and take his own, ending the tormenting agony Voldemort insisted he dole out. Leaving her to live, to birth a daughter, and to carry on the legacy her mother had begun. To leave her to become a fighter against the Dark Lord, to end his reign of terror once and for all. 

With her future husband at her side.

Speech ended, Dumbledore cleared his throat. There was one last thing to say. Something that hadbeen waiting to be said for nearly six months. 

"There is one last thing for you to hear from me today," he began, eyes scanning the crowds. "After mourning the loss of a most beloved teacher, it is with a much gladder heart that I change the subject to news of a lighter nature. As many have heard, our dearly loved Professor Lupin has formally withdrawn from his position at this school." There were several moans and boos, which Dumbledore waved away with his hand.   
"However," he continued loudly, over the voices of the students, "he has secured a permanent role in the Ministry's newest Defense Fighters." 

There was several catcalls and cheers---more for the hope that Lupin might finally overcome his grief than for the loss of everyone's favorite DADA teacher. Dumbledore went on. 

"I would like to add, he will be joined by several of you, whom have already joined the ranks. And, following his wedding tomorrow night, he will be joined most happily by his wife." 

Stunned silence fell over the assembly, soon followed by fevered whispering. Remus finally lifted his eyes, meeting with Casey's over the heads of the confused student body. 

_Till death do us part, Casey_

_Much longer than that._

She sat back in her chair, a peace breaking over her face, setting her fears and regrets to rest at last. Across the room, eyes winking with conspiratorial "I knew it!" smirks, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all crossed their arms over their chests and leaned back in their chairs, confident at last of the secrets both had kept so well guarded during the year. 

On the platform, hair falling messily into his eyes, Remus Lupin could feel himself smiling. 

Prologue

At the finish of Dumbledore's speech, the students scattered in all directions, making the most of their last day at Hogwart's before the summer holidays. For four, however, their steps were more sedate, more calm, and wiser. 

"I'm sorry I ever caused you any grief between you and Lupin," Harry began. 

"And we tried to expose the two of you." Added Hermione. 

"And, erm… sorry I didn't pay enough attention to realize any of this was going on," Ron stammered, blushing madly. 

"And I apologize for having to lie to you all," Casey said softly, eyes lowered. 

"But not any more." 

She looked up and met Harry's eyes with a smile. 

"No, Harry. Not any more." 

The following night was perfect. It was a new moon, but there were enough stars and dancing fairies to give the same brilliance of a full moon. The light danced on the petals of the scattered white lilies strewn about. Very few people stood in the garden—only seven, including Remus himself. But it was enough. 

Soft music filtered through the starry air, and she appeared at the end of the path. Remus couldn't take his eyes off her, for fear she'd disappear and prove his happiness to be a dream. His hands were still tightly closed around his comforting talisman, steadying his shaking body. She neared, eyes locked on his as she came to a stop. Sensing his nervousness, she looped her arm through his and kept him steady throughout the ceremony. It wasn't until the end, after both swore their vows, that he dared to open his hand to reveal the only thing that had managed to keep him from being completely suffused in pain at Severus' death: a small silver wedding band. 

Sliding it on her finger, he lifted his eyes to hers, hands gripping hers tightly. Without words, they spoke of the pains and hardships they had endured to arrive at that moment, and the promises both made to sustain the love they had found in each other. 

Eyes shining, she brushed aside his brown hair from his eyes. With a soft smile, he leaned closer 

"Je t'aime, ma chere," he whispered softly. "Pour tout l'heure."

"Much longer than that," Casey murmured back, their faces coming together in a kiss, sealing their union. 

One month later, Casey was pregnant. 

A/N: Ack, I put this one at the end this time so it didn't get in the way. I wanted to reiterate my thanks to everyone and anyone who's taken the time to even read this story, and even more thanks to those who review it. (hint hint) I wanna dedicate this chapter to Gaea (HA! HE spoke French!) and I have to admit, Lilith True and her "leaving for a month" is the only reason why this was posted now instead of Friday night. Hopefully, Gaea will take this whole 42 chapter story and post it on her site, so merci beaucoup pour ca…. MUWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHA I have to go to take a math exam now. So I'm gone. Outta here. Love all you guys, love Remus, love JKR for creating them (and copyrighting them, what-what!) Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night.

Until next time, I remain: 

Casey Franklin Lupin

Thank you. 


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